


misericordia

by vivific



Series: 'cordia verse [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Akumatized Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Episode: s03 Caméléon | Chameleon, Gen, POV Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Spitefic, not lila rossi friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivific/pseuds/vivific
Summary: Wherein the Papillon akumatises Marinette, and nothing goes as anyone expects.





	1. hello little butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> **Please heed the tags.** Chameleon ruined the entire class' characters and I'm gonna take it to its terrible terrible conclusion.
> 
> Oh and for those who are here because of my usual ML fics, this is unfortunately canon compliant with Lila, so maybe skip this one because she's not nice at all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is akumatised, and the Papillon learns he done goofed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to vulpineveritas, jamdraws, roxysrecklesswriting, paladin-of-fandoms, ladymagique-et-ladychance, disorganizedkitten, and [placeholder while i find their url] for proofreading chapter one!
> 
>  **04/04/19 Edit:** Revamped most of Chapter 1. Some things are different but the plot beats are the same.

One of Marinette’s first questions about the Miraculous had been if it made her immune to being akumatised, but however Tikki had tried, the kwami just couldn’t come to a definitive conclusion.

“Akumatisation isn’t a natural occurrence, Marinette,” she’d said, hovering across from her new charge. “The Miraculous are only as powerful as their wielder’s imagination, they allow for a creativity and bending of the rules, but akumatisation defies everything known about them.”

“So, if I were to feel sad, would the Papillon be able to find me?”

The kwami stalled. “You have dominion over the Butterfly, that’s why you’re the only one who can purify akumas. If you’re transformed, then the Ladybug will protect you from the Butterfly, though his akumas’ powers can still affect you.”

“And… if I weren’t transformed?”

Tikki frowned. “You need to know, Marinette, I’ve only dealt with wielders who were akumatised by their own magic. It really is something we know little about. Normally, if the Butterfly sent out a liaison to someone -- those normal white butterflies -- that person would have full control over their own actions, instead of being corrupted by the Papillon's akumatic energy. The Miraculous were never intended to be used on another wielder. It was expressly forbidden for millennia.”

“So…” Marinette’s eyebrows drew together, and her face fell resolute. “I’m like everyone else, then. I have to keep my feelings in check, and not let the Papillon exploit them.” Blue eyes rose and gleamed. “I won’t allow my emotions to hurt people, ever.”

Tikki beamed, zipping over to hug Marinette’s cheek.

“Paris is in safe hands, Marinette,” the kwami had said. “You were chosen well.”

 

It was never Marinette’s intention to be late for class, after all, she only lived across the street, but between daytime akuma attacks forcing her to pull all-nighters to catch up on schoolwork, and nighttime akuma attacks draining what energy she had left, it was all too easy to sleep through her alarm clock and wake up five minutes before the entry bell.

She made it to class ten minutes late, her heart stuck in her throat and sleep dust still in her eyes, but to her relief, Mlle Bustier wasn’t present yet, and her classmates were all chattering away. She rubbed at her eyes and blinked again. Half the class had moved seats, Nino was sitting next to Alya, and Adrien was—

Marinette hugged Alya around the shoulders, startling the other girl out of her conversation with Nino.

“How did you pull this off, Alya? I can’t believe you got everyone to change seats so I could sit with Adrien!” She pulled back a little as the reality of the situation set in. “But, to be honest, it’s probably not a great idea; Mlle Bustier already doesn’t like me talking to you during class, so she’ll probably be annoyed if I’m next to Adrien, and you really didn’t have to move everyone else if it’s me and Nino swapping seats—”

“Whoa, hold up, girl,” her best friend pried her hands off, smiling bemusedly. “What are you talking about? You’re not sitting next to Adrien—your seat’s over there.”

Marinette followed the girl’s finger to the back of the classroom. Where Juleka and Rose once sat, was now a completely empty row of seats by the window. She blinked.

“At the back? Why?”

Nino leaned over, resting an arm on Alya’s shoulder. “Sister’s got hearing issues, we couldn’t make her sit at the back.”

“Yeah,” Alya said cheerfully, leaning into her boyfriend. “We figured that Chloé wouldn’t move and neither would Sabrina, but I suggested Nino could move back here with me, and then I thought that Ivan and Mylene should sit together too, and Alix didn’t mind being moved with Nathaniel, and then Rose and Juleka said they wanted to sit on the right side of the aisle for a change, so—”

An uneasy feeling settled in Marinette’s stomach and rose to her throat as Alya excitedly listed everyone’s reason for moving around—everyone except Marinette’s. She finished with a clap of her hands, as though she’d solved some sort of puzzle, and smiled like the thought of Marinette’s reaction had never crossed her mind.

“You’re joking, right?” A desperate smile formed on Marinette’s lips. There was no way Alya would be that aloof to her best friend. Was this just some sort of a prank? What was going on? “Who is ‘she’ anyway?”

To answer her question, Mlle Bustier announced her return. The class’ attention turned to their teacher, and Marinette’s blood ran cold at the student trailing behind her.

“Oh my gosh, you guys remembered my hearing issue and gave me a seat at the front!” Lila Rossi blew kisses at the class, and suddenly everything made sense. “I’m so sorry to have to make everyone move, you’re all so sweet!”

“It wasn’t too hard,” said Alya, as Lila slid into her seat next to Adrien. “It’s the end of the year and we were all fine with switching around.”

All except one. Marinette’s face was marred with a deeply unimpressed frown. Of course, Alya could only be blinded by Lila’s false radiance.

“Well, I appreciate it very much, Aly,” Lila said, leaning over to the row behind her. Alya beamed at the nickname. “I’m sure I can snag you another interview with Ladybug, you’re so—”

“Welcome back, Lila,” Marinette interrupted bluntly, her arms crossed. Lila turned to her, looking like she hadn’t noticed Marinette glowering from the aisle. “I didn’t know you had a hearing issue.”

“Oh, I do,” Lila sighed dramatically, and touched her ear gingerly. “I have tinnitus in my left ear from saving Jagged Stone’s cat—”

“Jagged Stone has a crocodile,” Marinette said bluntly. Anyone would know that, and she especially knew that because she knew the star personally.

“He does now,” Lila amended with a sickeningly sweet smile, “but he used to have the cutest little black kitten until he found out he was allergic to them.”

Some of the class awwed audibly, and Marinette wanted to scream. She bit her lip. Two could play at the game of connections.

“Did you know I made several designs for Jagged Stone, Lila?” she asked, a reckless feeling creeping over her shoulders. “I even designed his latest album cover.”

“Oh, really? That’s wonderful, Marinette,” Lila’s smile didn’t waver. “You should be proud of yourself!”

A haze passed over Marinette’s eyes.

“Yeah, I check in with him every now and then, and I don’t remember him saying he ever had a kitten before. He’s only ever had a dog that he gave to his grandmother.”

“Marinette,” Alya interrupted, looking slightly exasperated, “what are you doing?”

A shame washed over her. Everyone was staring at her, their faces blank and unsupportive. She was going off topic.

“I’m just saying I’ve never heard of Jagged Stone having a kitten. If Lila does have tinnitus from saving a kitten that doesn’t exist, does she have a medical note from a doctor to prove it?”

“Are you calling me a liar, Marinette?” Lila burst out, her smile vanishing. “I wouldn’t lie about having a disability! How could you _say_ something like that?!”

The atmosphere tensed, and the eyes on Marinette ramped up in judgement. Immediately, Lila looked to be on the brink of tears, looking most pitiable, but Marinette dug her heels into the ground and refused to be moved.

“Jesus, Marinette,” Alya tugged at her arm, but Marinette didn’t look at her. “I get it, but you should really let it go, already.”

“Let what go?” asked Lila. Her tears vanished instantly. “I don’t understand. Does Marinette have a problem with me sitting in the front, specifically?”

“I’m so sorry, Lila, ignore her.” Alya stood up, prodding Marinette up the aisle. “Marinette’s just jeal—”

“Alya!” She wrenched her arm out of her best friend’s hold.

“All right, settle down.” Mlle Bustier finally remembered she was the authority figure in the class. She smiled politely at Marinette, but it didn’t inspire confidence.

“Marinette, I can see you’re surprised because you weren’t consulted, but perhaps if you had come to class on time, you would have had a say in this matter. Do you have a vision or hearing issue?”

“But, Professeur,” Marinette frowned, “I’m asking if Lila—”

“I don’t have problems seeing or hearing,” Adrien interrupted her, standing up. “I can sit in the back, and Marinette can sit up front with Lila, right?”

“No!”

Marinette flinched from the sudden cry. Everyone turned, and Lila’s shoulders visibly slumped.

“Look,” the girl sighed, her head dropping, “I’m sorry I’m causing all this trouble for the class. We’re half an hour into the day and we’re arguing about seats. If Marinette really wants to sit in the front, that’s fine, I’ll just sit in the back then.” She stood, looking pathetically miserable. “I’ll be okay.”

Heads swung to Marinette. All of them, Alya, Nino, Adrien, looked disgusted with her. To them, she looked like she was making a big deal out of nothing, like she was doubting someone who’d only been kind to all of them, and refusing to accommodate a hero.

A familiar heat rushed up to her ears.

“I mean, I don’t have trouble seeing or hearing,” Marinette admitted, her bravado receding. “But _does_ Lila have—”

“Then there’ll be no problem with you sitting in the back,” Bustier overrode coolly. “Lila, you and Adrien stay in the front, and Marinette, you can head to the back.”

Lila lit up like a damned Christmas tree, sliding back into her seat and sitting way too closely next to Adrien. Mademoiselle Bustier’s arms crossed, waiting for Marinette to give in.

Her nails dug into her skin, and she turned on her heel. She nearly tripped on the step, but luckily made it to the back of the class without any further incident. Her face was on fire.

She wanted to scream in Lila’s face, grab her by the shoulders and shake her silly, demand how she could stoop ever lower and fake a _disability_ for attention. What was the girl’s problem?

Marinette’s eyes began to sting, and she grabbed her backpack and began rummaging through it, ducking her head to hide any tears.

She was fully expecting Lila to be a total narcissist, that was nothing new. But the way the rest of the class had looked at her… and Alya...

Marinette blinked quickly to rid the tears, and looked up to the front of the class. Alya was talking to Nino, completely oblivious to Marinette’s state. The boy turned and met her eyes, and an alarm flashed over his face for a moment, but then he purposefully averted his gaze.

The tears started anew, but now Marinette was grinding her teeth. Of course, it was just like Nino to ignore her distress. He’d told the class he’d learnt not to be a bystander anymore, but clearly he hadn’t changed at all. Marinette looked into her bag again and pulled out her tablet. Her hands were stained with warm tears.

How did Lila have everyone so enraptured with her, when she’d only been there for a day and then vanished for like two weeks? How did the entire class believe her when just days ago they were telling Marinette how thankful they were for her? Was Lila just that incredible to them, or did Marinette’s word mean that little?

Oh. She had already forgotten how it felt to be alone.

“All right everyone, let’s open our books to page…”

The textbook loaded on her screen, and butterfly wings flapped.

_Misericordia, I am—_

“Professeur?”

The image of the front of the class was hazy and dark. For a moment, every face before her turned skeletal and empty pairs of eyes leered at her. She clenched her fists and refused to betray herself.

“Yes, Marinette?” Bustier’s voice rang distant and echoed, and it wasn’t from the distance.

“May I go to the washroom, please?”

“Class only just started—” Bustier said, her face flickering into a sneer.

Marinette stood up, seized her shoulder bag with her free hand, and ran down the steps. The class began to cackle amongst themselves.

**Look how she cries, look how she runs away, look how pathetic Marinette is!**

Bustier called her name in a angered shriek, but she fled the class of mocking classmates and sprinted down the hall. The laughter didn’t stop, trailing behind her, growing louder and louder.

**Poor Marinette, did you really think anyone cared about you?**

**You’re nothing, and no one, I can’t believe you thought we’d be your _friends._**

**No one would miss you, Marinette, maybe you should just do everyone a favour and** —

Her hands shoved the door open and she stumbled into the girls’ washroom. From her peripheral, the stalls were empty of class skippers. The door swung closed behind her and she screamed at her reflection.

“Leave me alone!”

Glass shattered beneath her knuckles. The sound reverberated through her, and the voices fell silent. Only one remained.

 _What was that?_ the Papillon asked.

Every breath came out with a rattling sob. Her right hand didn’t even hurt, and she wiped at her tears. Learned phrases ran through her head.

Deep breaths. What could she feel? Smell? See? Touch? Hear? Ground herself. Focus. Calm down.

The ground was hard beneath her flats. She clasped her hands together and cracked her knuckles. There was no pain from the glass. The washroom smelled of the school’s hand soap. The room was quiet, except herself. She was not alone.

Marinette opened her eyes, and met with herself, split and shattered into pieces. Her vision was well-lit, no darkness to be seen, no demonic faces to jeer at her.

She spoke without reservation, and her words were steady and calm.

“I don’t want your help,” she said quietly, taking steps back towards the mirror. Her hands pulsed with her heartbeat. “I refuse to do anything for you.”

Her eyes were still blue. Her face was red with tears with emotion. There was no holographic mask in her reflection. But he was there in her mind, silent and present.

“I’m just a normal girl having stupid schoolgirl drama. I don’t care about your magical jewellery.”

_The Miraculous are the last thing on my mind._

Marinette turned on the tap. It was a familiar action. She’d been through this before. Clean up her face, blow her nose, wet paper towel and press it against her cheeks until her face stopped looking puffy and red. She knew the process, it’d just been a while since the last time.

 _I could help you,_ the Papillon continued. _You have so much anger, and fear, and hatred inside of you. Don’t you want to make them all pay for what they’ve done you all these years?_

“I told you I don’t want your help,” she repeated, her jaw seizing. “Are you hard of hearing too, Papillon?”

_No one has ever refused my help before. Yet, you’re so afraid of being akumatised, you gave your fears life._

“So those faces and voices aren’t your doing?”

A laugh rang out in her head. Unfortunately, it was very human.

_No, although it would be very helpful. You really don’t want to be akumatised._

“For the last time, I don’t. I don’t want your help and I don’t want revenge and I especially don’t want to assist you in your terrorism,” Marinette growled.

Her reflection pouted.

_You say you don’t want revenge, but you do. I’ve never seen someone with this much negative energy before. Not even from that girl who stole your place._

“Lila…” Marinette began. She clenched her fists. “Lila is the worst person I’ve ever met without a Miraculous. I don’t know how no one else can see she’s lying out of her ass about everything, but—”

She let out a muffled cry and slammed her other hand against the sink countertop.

 _You’ve done so much for them. You gave up everything for them. You’ve let them step all over you because you didn’t want to lead your dearest friends to me. How noble of you, but see how they’ve repaid you? They’d abandoned you, left you behind, let you down. I could help you, Marinette. You could make them feel the same pain they’ve dealt to you. You could_ —

“But I won’t.”

The voice halted. Marinette let out a breath.

“But I won’t,” she shook her head. “I won’t hurt them. I won’t make them pay. I won’t get my revenge. Because it won’t help anyone. I don’t want them to beg my forgiveness because they’re scared of me. I don’t want them to fear me or hate me. I won’t.”

_You’re such a kind person, Marinette. But I’m afraid this world does not deserve your kindness. I can feel you are trying to be merciful, but you shouldn’t deny yourself that anger._

“I don’t care.”

She raised her head and met her stoic reflection.

“You’re right, I hate them, and maybe making them feel as bad as I did will make them understand, but I won’t. I refuse. This world is already full of people who do hateful things. I will not add on to that. If I’m kind, if I try my best to be kind, then surely other people will see they can too.”

 _You’re naive,_ he almost sounded disappointed in her. _Can’t you see what happens to those who forgive too much?_

An unintentional snort punctuated his statement. Marinette smiled at the broken mirror.

“Is that how you came to be, Papillon?” she asked, without a hint of sympathy. “Don’t tell me you became the way you are because you were too _nice_. You chose to do bad things. You have continued to do bad things. It doesn’t matter what you want the Miraculous for—there is nothing that can justify what you’ve done to us. _Now get out of my head._ ”

She hissed at him, and let her rage boil over. At last, just for a moment, she could be angry with him, and hate him, and he could do nothing to take advantage of that.

Her friends were stupid teenagers, but the Papillon deserved no pity.

A flash of something hit her, nagging at the back of her mind. Frustration that wasn’t hers built. Her hate gave way to confusion.

“You…” she realised. She turned off the running tap. She pulled back her hair. The right earring remained a deep purple. “You can’t leave me?”

 _What have you done?_ the voice snarled. _The akuma refuses to leave you._

“I haven’t done anything,” she said defensively, dropping her hand. “I know less than you do. Can’t you just detransform and break the connection? Or do you suck at that too?”

The presence radiated indignance. A shameless pride welled in Marinette. It was mean to insult people, but someone like the Papillon didn’t deserve her respect anyway.

_The akuma is independent of my connection to the Miraculous, no matter what. It must be because you’re refusing me. I’ve never left a host without transforming them first._

“Is that your excuse to make me accept? You’re losing your touch, old man. Maybe this is why you shouldn’t use the Miraculous for evil.”

_The Miraculous don’t care about human morality._

“Says you,” she scoffed. “I doubt Ladybug and Chat Noir have these problems.”

_For someone who feared my powers, you’re awfully bold._

“I’m not scared of you,” she huffed, scowling. “You won’t even come out and fight Ladybug face to face. You needed an entire army first, and you still lost. If it weren’t for that weird monster, you would have been caught on Heroes’ Day.”

_Enough!_

Despite the raw anger in her mind, it only startled her, like a bright flash of light in the corner of her eye. The Papillon brimmed with fury.

A new feeling bubbled up in her chest, came out as a giggle, and then erupted into a mocking laugh.

“I see what’s going on, now.”

The Papillon was too angry to prompt her.

“You can’t force me to agree, you can’t recall the akuma, which means the only way to get rid of the akuma is to break my earring, am I wrong?”

The presence simmered with anger that couldn’t touch her and the bubbling feeling in her chest grew. It felt like gaining the upper hand on an akuma, except she could almost lose control of it. Her smile grew wider.

“And we all know you can’t send out more than one akuma at a time,” she said, insultingly nonchalant as she worked her way to her conclusion. “You just told me detransforming won’t reset the akuma, either, which means you just rendered yourself completely powerless.”

Her reflection raised its hand and slammed against the barrier. Marinette beamed in response.

Anger, fury, hatred at her and himself. The feeling spilled over and she leaned in to the glass.

“You tried, Papillon, but congratulations: you played yourself.”

The Papillon snarled uselessly in her mind, and vanished in a burst of frustration.

Her reflection turned back to normal. Marinette let out a breath. She was alone.

Truly alone.

She pulled her hair back. The left earring was was red with black spots; Tikki was hidden inside them.

Plans began to run through her mind. Could she risk going to Fu so soon? What if the Papillon transformed back and heard her thinking about the Miraculous? She had him trapped for the moment, but she couldn’t free the akuma just yet. She had to stay like this for as long as possible, and use this unwilling stalemate to her advantage.

Marinette pulled out the earring and cupped it in her hands. It radiated warmth. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the kwami nestled in her palm.

“I’m gonna get us out of this,” she murmured into the earring. “I know I can.”

In the silence, Marinette imagined a pitched voice replying: I know you can, too, Marinette.

 

She left the washroom without anyone seeing her. Luck had been on her side, since no one had heard her arguing with the Papillon. Surely, the school would gossip about who punched a mirror, but her hand didn’t hurt at all and she hadn’t even bled.

Marinette turned the corner, and stopped at the sight of Alya heading her way. The girl’s eyes went wide, and she approached her gingerly. Apparently, she had thought to go after Marinette, twenty minutes after the fact.

“Marinette,” the girl said awkwardly, clasping her hands together.

Something about the sight of the girl gave Marinette a sick feeling in her stomach, but she smiled instinctively. She shoved her hands into her pockets and bounced on the balls of her feet.

“Sorry,” she said, “I made Madame Bustier angry, didn’t I?”

“No, err, well—yeah. She’s a little mad,” Alya said quietly. She came closer, beaming concern and guilt. “Are you feeling better, though?”

Marinette gave a small smile, and stepped away. Alya’s worry was a neon sign. It was suffocating, and a little annoying.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I just pulled an all nighter, and y’know, I wasn’t expecting the seating rearrangement. I just got frustrated.”

Alya sighed, and Marinette tensed. Annoyance? Exasperation?

“Look, Marinette, I know you don’t like Lila, but you can’t just go and accuse her of faking a hearing impairment just because you don’t want her sitting next to Adrien. I mean you hardly know her.”

“You… Do you think this is about _Lila_?” Marinette stepped back. Alya flinched. “I told you I saw Ladybug yelling at her in the park and calling her a liar.”

“You also said Adrien was there with her on a date,” Alya’s arms crossed defensively. “I love you, Marinette, but you have a huge sore spot when it comes to Adrien. You never get along with any girl who gets even remotely close to him. I don’t mind helping you get together with him, but that doesn’t mean you have to slander other people—”

“ _Slander_?” Marinette echoed. Her fists clenched inside her pockets. “It’s not about Lila and Adrien! It’s about—” she sucked in a breath, and turned away. Her shoulders slumped.

No. Just because she had the freedom to be upset, didn’t mean she had the right to upset others. She didn’t want to hurt Alya. She didn’t want revenge.

“About what, then?” Alya pressed, lips pulled in a frown. “‘Cause I really don’t understand why you’re so angry about this. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Of course it wasn’t, not if one thought it was all about seating arrangements.

Marinette spun around, jaw clenched, and stared Alya down.

“It’s about _you_ , and everyone else in class.”

Alya’s jaw dropped. She made to speak, but Marinette spoke first.

“Because you didn’t believe me when I told you about what I saw in the park, even though you _know_ Volpina was Lila. Because you still didn’t believe me when I told you I’d asked Jagged Stone about Lila and he said he didn’t know her. Because _you_ never believe me when I express any sort of opinion about Lila that’s not glowingly positive!

“I was surprised that the class, everyone who I thought were my friends, didn’t believe me, but I expected _you_ of all people to have my back! You’ve known me for much longer than you’ve known Lila, but you trust her word over mine?”

The other girl tried to interrupt, but Marinette’s eyes flashed and she continued over her.

“And you know what’s the worst part about all of this? I wouldn’t have cared half as much that you put Lila next to Adrien, but you put me all in the way in the back row _alone_ just so you could, what, spend more time with Nino? You, who got mad at Chloé on our first day when she tried to move me, didn’t even _ask_ me how I felt about being alone _against my will_.”

A bitter laugh rang down the hall, and Marinette shook her head.

“Have fun with your boyfriend, Alya,” she said, passing her, “I’m sure you and Lila will be great friends.”

“Marinette, wait!”

She felt it coming before Alya even touched her. Fingers seized Marinette’s shoulder, and she understood exactly what Alya felt.

“I didn’t think you’d be this upset about it,” Alya said, putting her thoughts into coherent words. “It’s almost the end of the school year, I couldn’t justify to Madame Bustier why you should get a desk to yourself and move everyone behind us up a row. I thought you’d be okay with it. I meant to text you before you got to class but I was chatting with Nino and I forgot. You’re my best friend, I’d never intentionally hurt you. I’m sorry it made you upset.”

Marinette pulled away and took a step back. The sick feeling had intensified, and formed into something she recognised: guilt. Alya’s guilt, and more.

Alya felt guilty. Alya was annoyed with her. Alya didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Alya didn’t understand what she’d done wrong, only that it’d made Marinette storm out, and Alya wanted to be forgiven so that sick feeling would go away.

Marinette stared into golden eyes and wondered when their friendship had turned into this.

“You didn’t think I’d make a fuss about it,” her words came out soft and bitter, “because I always make sacrifices for my friends, don’t I?”

“That is _not_ what I thought, Marinette.” Alya protested. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first, but… honestly, they’re just seats, I don’t get why you’re so angry about it.”

Marinette smiled and shook her head and turned away. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t believe this.

“I just told you, it’s not the seats I’m angry about,” she said. For someone whose job was to be neutral and relay information, Alya was both biased and bad at listening. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t care.”

“Marinette?”

She turned back to face her once-friend and gave a practiced smile.

“Are you coming back to class or what? You did come to find me, didn't you?”

Marinette turned on her heel and started back for the classroom. Alya followed at a distance, but didn’t try to reach out to her again. Marinette’s brows furrowed. She shut her eyes, and felt.

_What did you do to me, old man?_

The presence hadn’t returned, and she received no answer. Yet, she felt no panic at the new development.

Something had gone wrong, but it would be okay. She could bear this strange new power in return for trapping the Papillon in a stalemate.

She’d just finish her classes for the day, head down to Fu’s, figure out a plan for dragging the Papillon out, and after he was dealt with, she could figure out how to purify herself and release Tikki. It couldn’t be that hard.

Right?

 

Class was uncomfortable. It was even worse when she could feel auras of emotion. Although Lila and Chloé were as physically distant from her as possible, Marinette could still feel their negative feelings from across the room. It radiated from them like a light, and almost drowned out the feelings of unease and boredom from the rest of the class.

Dear god, if this was how the Papillon felt the world, she almost wouldn’t blame him for keeping himself cooped up all the time. If he felt all this hatred all the time, no wonder he had such a bleak view on humanity.

But that was no excuse for terrorising her city and exploiting the fears of innocents. He was just a dick.

Alya kept looking over her shoulder at her, and Marinette felt her confusion and pity and the slightest bit of annoyed condescension. It was awful. Had Alya always seen her this way? Was Marinette just blind to it the whole time?

Her friends were good people. They protected her when her Nonna was akumatised. They called her their everyday Ladybug. They weren’t tricking her or bullying her, not like Chloé, so _why_ —

“Marinette, could you answer the next question?”

She looked down at her notes. She’d zoned out. Her lips pursed and she checked the blackboard. What was it?

**Ugh, isn’t it _obvious_? The answer’s C.**

She startled, and looked around. No, that voice… That wasn’t the Papillon. It was…

“Marinette?” Bustier prompted again.

“The... answer is C,” she said.

“Good,” Bustier turned back to the board and continued the lesson.

Marinette stared down at the pages, an unwanted blush rising to her ears.

**I am so bored.**

A different voice, whose was it? Marinette’s brows furrowed. She closed her eyes.

**thirty minutes left.**

**really think?**

**okay, she looks like she’s**

**ew, blocked**

Her eyes opened again.

Thoughts. She was hearing everyone’s thoughts, now. This couldn’t be.

Her fingers seized her right earlobe, just as a familiar presence settled into her mind.

_You need to tell your friend Alya that you’ve been akumatised, and have her call Ladybug._

She wanted to rip her earring out and throw it out the window. Instead, Marinette settled for digging her nails into the notebook.

‘What are you doing to me?’ she asked.

_It’s not intentional, I assume it’s a side effect of you not agreeing to the transformation. It’s giving you my powers._

‘You can read minds too?’

_…What?_

‘I can feel everyone’s feelings, and hear their thoughts. Aren’t those some of your powers?’

The Papillon swore. If it weren’t for the creeping chill down her shoulders, and the dull din of the class’ brains, Marinette might have found it funny.

_I can only sense negative emotions. Mind reading is not one of my powers. Just what are you?_

‘No idea, but I’m not telling Alya.’ she said bluntly, grabbing a pencil and scribbling lines onto the notebook. One good thing about being alone at the back of the class, no one to notice her scribbling nonsense.

_Just because your friend is angry at you does not mean she will leave you to be akumatised. She would never disappoint Ladybug like that._

‘It’s not about Alya.’ The page tore from her pen. ‘What happens if I keep the akuma on me?’

_I… I thought you had gained my latent powers._

‘That being?’

_Negative emotion reading and manipulation._

‘So you _do_ manipulate people into agreeing to become akumatised.’

Annoyance flickered at her. _They do have a say in it, but you’ll find it’s easy to persuade those who are compromised._

‘I don’t have that much faith in your persuasion abilities,’ thought Marinette dryly, ‘considering how well this one is going.’

_Listen, you impudent child, do you want to remain akumatised forever?_

‘Assuming I don’t gain any more freaky powers,’ Marinette frowned, ‘I can and will wait you out.’

_So you won’t ask for help until I… what?_

‘Until you surrender your Miraculous, of course,’ she said, smiling at the ruined paper. She tore it out and began to doodle. ‘As annoying as these powers are right now, I’m perfectly happy to bug you with my thoughts until you give up.’

_You are insufferable._

‘And _you_ are a monster, Gabriel Agreste.’

A flicker of surprise. Her smile widened, and she muted her amusement.

_How…_

‘I assumed all along, but you threw me off by akumatising yourself. Until you mentioned today that your akuma acts independently of your own connection to the Miraculous. It was too easy to piece things together from there.’

_You… knew?_

‘Your company logo is literally a butterfly. You weren’t subtle at all.’

She could see why Chloé always acted so condescending now. It was _fun_. At least, when the target actually deserved it. Then again, Chloé probably felt everyone deserved it.

Ugh. Okay. Dialing it down a bit. Maybe the akuma _was_ affecting her.

_Yet, you didn’t tell anyone?_

‘How could I? You’d been akumatised and publicly targeted. I couldn’t prove it was you. Besides,’ she looked over to the front left row. ‘The people I could tell would never believe me anyway.’

_I see. Dare I say it, I’m actually impressed, Mlle Marinette._

‘Thanks, I hate it.’

_So where do we go from here?_

‘Like I said. You can’t send out another akuma, and I refuse to tell anyone I’m akumatised until you give up your Miraculous. I don’t mind these weird powers if it takes you down in the end.’

_You are that confident in this plan?_

‘I’m very confident I can bore you to surrender first.’

_I will find a way to get rid of you, Mlle Marinette. You have not won this._

‘Yet,’ chirped Marinette. Her gaze fell to the window.

All of Paris, and she would play this waiting game to save them all.

The presence vanished, and without a voice to focus on, the rest of the class’ swarmed in.

Marinette grimaced, and jerked her head down to her desk.

Deep breaths. In. Out. Oh boy.

She was going to have to take a few days off, huh?

Her shoulders curled in on herself, and she peeked over to the front row once again.

Maybe it was a good thing she had reason to keep her friends at a distance.

Maybe it was a good thing she already knew their truths.

 

The absolute worst part about her new seat was that she couldn’t avoid Alya. Marinette took as long as she could to pack up after class, but Alya planted herself in front of the door and waited for her.

Any other time, it would have been sweet. Now, it was very much so bitter.

“Marinette,” she said, after everyone else had filed out, stepping between her and the door. “I need to talk to you.”

“And I have to get to German,” Marinette replied, trying to brush past her.

The girl grabbed her by the shoulders, and stared her down. Marinette flinched under the current of emotions and a couple coherent thought threads.

**need her to know didn’t mean must not please for**

“No, we’re gonna talk about this. You’ve never been mad at me before.” Alya’s hold faltered. “I really don’t know what to do about it.”

“I’m not mad at you,” said Marinette calmly, tugging the girl’s hands off. The wall of emotions retreated. “I’m just not in the greatest mood right now.”

“Because I changed your seat.”

“No. But it didn’t help either.”

“Marinette, I _am_ sorry,” repeated Alya, touching Marinette’s arms. “I really didn’t—”

“I know already!” Marinette snapped, pulling away. “Can you please stop touching me right now? It’s making me really uncomfortable.”

Alya blinked, looking struck.

“You’ve… never had a problem with me hugging you.”

**did something happen is she okay did someone hurt**

Marinette breathed in sharply, and looked down, rubbing her earring.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m just feeling really cranky today. I’d appreciate it if you just… gave me some space.”

Alya’s shoulders slumped.

**that’s not forgiveness**

“Is there anything I could do to help?” the girl asked tentatively.

**please i need make this right for**

Marinette shook her head and Alya pulled herself back.

**it’s fine not lila’s fault then she’ll be fine marinette doesn’t**

Oh.

The loneliness sparked into anger, but Marinette seized the inside of her lip between her teeth.

“Excuse me,” she said, stepping around Alya, “I gotta go.”

She braced herself against the hall of intangible obstacles, and stepped out of the class.

 

It was so exhausting. There were so many thoughts, and none of them distinct enough to actually understand. All she felt were conflicting emotions on all sides, and a constant murmur of broken dialogue. If Lila had actually had tinnitus, Marinette imagined she’d understand the feeling.

Marinette kept herself grounded with a running monologue of things she would say to Tikki if she were around. She really hoped the kwami was okay, locked inside her one earring. She’d have to make a necklace or something to keep it close. Perhaps a locket? Did she even have the time to make such a thing? She could just buy one.

At last, she made it to German. Late, of course, and with one hell of an entrance.

“Hello to you too, Fräulein Marinette,” her German teacher said. Not even her faceplant into the floor interrupted his elegant writing on the chalkboard.

 **normal day as usual** , she caught.

“Sorry, Sir,” mustered Marinette. She pulled herself to her feet and found herself directly in front of one Lila Rossi. The girl’s face was pulled in blatantly fake expression of concern.

**what a clumsy girl**

Marinette rolled her eyes and made her way to the back of the classroom. Come on, happy thoughts, punching Little Miss Liar wasn’t going to actually improve anything.

Except maybe her mood.

No, she swatted the idea away and sat down. That was exactly how an akumatised person felt, and she was not going to give into it. She was better than this.

Then Sir Janz assigned Marinette and Lila to work on a group project together, and Marinette briefly considered an amendment to her stance on violence.

 

She was able to escape her friends at lunch, and headed straight home instead of sticking around for the hour. There wasn’t enough time to get to Fu’s and back to school during lunch.

The bakery was still open, so her mother told her to grab some leftovers herself for the moment, an aura of guilt trailing behind her. Unlike Alya, however, this guilt was different. Benign, was all Marinette could call it. Something more earnest than Alya’s panic for forgiveness. Her parents had always tried their best to be there for her, but they just couldn’t be, and Marinette hadn’t wanted to add to their stresses.

She took her lunch up to her room, and was suddenly struck with an emptiness. Perhaps it was the familiar room, perhaps it was the fact that Tikki didn’t zip out of her pocket and chat, or perhaps it was just because she finally felt _safe_ , but she set the food on her desk and sat on the floor.

What was she _doing_? Playing such a risky gambit against the Papillon? The Ladybug Miraculous was compromised, Tikki was gone, and she could lose all the privacy she’d ever had in her life in an effort to break the Papillon. Gabriel Agreste was a rich and powerful man, even without the Miraculous. How far would he go to make Marinette’s life hell?

She always knew it’d be dangerous to go up against the Papillon, but that was as Ladybug. Ladybug, who could heal any injury and sustain any damage. Ladybug, who was precisely the reason why she had a secret identity. Ladybug, who didn’t have any known associates to threaten or blackmail.

But the alternative? Allowing the Papillon to akumatise her, even though he didn’t know controlling her meant almost certain victory? Or letting the akuma go? The earrings weren’t supposed to be breakable. If she let the akuma leave her, they’d be back to square one and the Papillon would again be at large.

To what lengths would she go to protect her city? Would she be willing to risk the lives of her family?

The presence returned.

 _What are you doing?_ he asked, annoyed and curious.

“Nothing,” she said, pulling her knees to her chin. “What do you want?”

_You’re awfully upset._

“Congrats on your perceptiveness, did your Miraculous give it to you?”

… _Why are you so determined to stop me by yourself?_

“So you _can_ read minds.”

_No, I’m only inferring from what emotions I can feel from you. You feel scared, but not for yourself._

“It’s not that I don’t trust Ladybug or Chat Noir,” she muttered. “But it’s personal. I’ve watched you hurt so many people, people I’ve tried my best to keep away from you. Now is finally my chance to stop you, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

_How admirable._

She grunted in acknowledgement.

_That is quite the savior complex you have there, Mlle Marinette._

“Excuse me?” she deadpanned. “I don’t have a savior complex.”

_Don’t you? You think that, after everything Ladybug and Chat Noir have fought for, you’ll be the one who stops me?_

“That’s not the definition of a savior complex,” Marinette scowled. “You don’t need to be a superhero to do good things. Plenty of people fight against you just by keeping themselves calm against your terror and fear.”

_Is that so?_

“I believe it.”

_You’re naive._

“And you’re a dick.”

_You were a lot nicer to me last time we met._

“I didn’t think you were a monster, back then.”

_And you were trying to get my son back in your class._

“Yeah, well, maybe I shouldn’t have.”

_I agree._

“Huh.”

The back-and-forth banter ebbed her fear away, replaced by something reckless and gleeful.

The Papillon wasn’t just a faceless terrifying monster, he was human, and mortal, and anything he could do to her, she could do to him. She could do this. She was just as strong as he was. Maybe even stronger.

She latched onto the carelessness and climbed into the chair.

“How do you even breathe in your costume? Where does your hair go?”

_Are these… really the questions you want to ask me?_

“I’ve nothing better to do,” she chirped, booting up her computer and picking at her food. “But I do have a serious question: you want the Miraculous to save Emilie Agreste, don’t you?”

_Pardon?_

“You heard me. You wanna find her, don’t you? You have all the money in the world, but none of it can find your wife. That’s why you want the Miraculous. Am I wrong?”

 _Yes,_ he snarled. Anger again, tinted with the pain of failure. She couldn’t feel any sympathy for him.

The reckless joy grew.

“Nah,” she said, waving her fork and smiling at her monitor. “I’m close, I can feel it.”

_You couldn’t be farther from the truth._

“And yet,” Marinette grinned, “I’m getting the feeling you’re lying to me, or not being completely honest. I’m not quite right, but I’m close enough. All these akumas, just for your wife, but you just can’t win against two kids, hm?”

The Papillon vanished, and Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle.

So it was pushy and cruel of her to keep bringing up his failures, but that was the _point_. She would get him to give up, one way or another. Even if it meant saying things she normally couldn’t, or wouldn’t.

Huh. Maybe the akuma was turning her ‘evil’ after all.

 

Alya, thankfully, left her alone for the rest of the day, though Marinette could still feel the girl’s emotions swirling around her person. They were a mix of anxieties over Marinette’s friendliness towards her, and some worry about Lila, who was apparently spewing bullshit about how the class president didn’t seem to like her because she got her moved around and dear god Marinette really wanted to shake them both by the shoulders.

No violence, though. She would not give into that. It helped no one, even if it made her feel better in the moment.

Not even if it got Lila Rossi to shut up for five fucking seconds about her stupid travels.

Class was difficult, though, for whatever she did understand was confused by people who didn’t, and what she didn’t understand was rendered incomprehensible by the people who did. She could barely keep her senses tuned into the real world to hear what the teacher was saying.

Which was why she skipped last period Physics to rush over to Fu’s. She’d checked, and Agreste was supposed to be at some meeting at the hour, so he wouldn’t have the time to transform and potentially figure out who she was talking to.

Marinette raised her hand to knock on the door, and was let in before her knuckles even hit the wood. Fu regarded her gravely, and to her surprise, she couldn’t read him at all.

“Marinette,” he said, “I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t feel if he meant it, but there was a weariness in his eyes, and she could imagine  he blamed himself.

“How did you know?” she asked, as he let her in. “I can’t read you at all.”

“The Miraculous operate on a balance, each one overcoming and submitting to another, like how water douses fire, and fire burns wood. It is all an interconnected network, and Wayzz felt that Tikki was inactive.” said Fu, walking over to a cabinet. “Would you like some tea?”

“Uh--”

“Where is she?” demanded Wayzz, zipping into view.

Marinette sat down by the coffee table and opened her bag. Fu set down some tea, and Marinette offered the singular earring.

“Is she okay?” she asked, as Fu took the remaining Miraculous.

“She is asleep,” Fu said. “Normally, since the Butterfly falls within the Ladybug’s domain, she could have overpowered it, but the akuma are formed by corrupted thoughts, and we do not fully understand their volatile nature. I believe the Ladybug’s attempt at taking control instead neutralised the Papillon’s hold over you, and is giving you the powers the Butterfly normally wields.”

“But, the Papillon told me he can only sense negative thoughts and emotions,” recounted Marinette. “Is that because of the akuma?”

Fu nodded. “Akumatisation gives greater power to the Miraculous, at the cost of control and restricting certain abilities. The Papillon likely doesn’t know he even has such powers.”

“And… why can’t I read you?”

Fu smiled. “I’ve picked up many things over the years, Marinette. Shielding my mind is one of them. The kwami cannot be read either; you gained your power from one of them.”

“I see…” Marinette relaxed. If she tried, she could hear faint thoughts from the rest of the building, but it was nice to be able to think alone, even only for a moment. “So, does that mean I can’t be purified?”

“Are you worried?” prompted Fu.

“I… I think so,” she said, eyebrows furrowing. She picked at the fabric of her jeans. “I don’t… I think I’m supposed to be, but I can’t…” She touched her heart, realisation setting in. “I can’t feel anything.”

Fu nodded, as though he expected it.

“The akumas prey on what you want the most, Marinette. If I may ask, what did you want when the Papillon found you?”

“I just wanted to be left alone,” said Marinette. “Left alone to feel bad for a while.”

“Despair is what brings meaning to happiness,” said Fu, gaze softening. “But that isn’t it, is it?”

Marinette scowled. “If you know, why don’t you just tell me then?”

Fu blinked. A delayed shame crept up Marinette’s spine. She dipped her head in apology.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been really… rude, since I got akumatised. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I understand, Marinette,” said Fu. “Don’t worry.”

She looked up, and he was smiling reassuringly. A weight lifted.

“I do not know your personal life very well, Marinette, but, I imagine when the Papillon found you, you did not want to feel pain any more. The akuma latched onto that, and now you’re gradually losing touch with your own senses.”

“But that doesn’t explain why I’m feeling everyone else’s thoughts and emotions!” blurted out Marinette. She paused, and groaned into her hands. “I’m sorry, this is so dumb, it shouldn’t have been that easy for him to take control of me.”

“But he hasn’t, Marinette,” said Fu. Marinette looked up. Fu almost looked proud. “If anything, you have taken control of him. He cannot send out another akuma now, so he is much less powerful than he was before. You have been a brilliant Ladybug, Marinette, and I am glad I chose you.”

“I got akumatised over something so silly, though,” Marinette pulled her knees up to her chest. “I’m putting everyone in danger just because I felt lonely.”

“Marinette,” Fu’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you think you’re speaking of yourself like this?”

Marinette paused. “It… It is that petty, though.”

Fu shook his head. “You are being far too harsh with yourself. How many times has Chat Noir compromised himself during an akuma attack, and how many times did you save Paris without his aid?”

“That’s not it, though,” Marinette frowned. “I’m the only one who can purify an akuma, everyone else can make as many mistakes as they want, but if I screw up, it’s all over.”

Fu’s face fell.

“See, you believe me,” said Marinette. “I’m not supposed to be compromised.”

“That is not why,” Fu said, lips pursing. “I am disappointed in myself for burdening you with such a heavy destiny.”

Marinette met his eyes. Fu turned his head away.

“The Order of Guardians valued children as Miraculous wielders because your imagination allows for you to use the Miraculous’ powers with near-unlimited power,” he explained, a ghost in his eyes. “I once cherished that you and Chat Noir could make mistakes without social consequence, for that was not something I could do.”

He turned back to face her.

“However, I should not have chosen you or Chat Noir. I am sorry, Marinette. I believed you two were strong enough to share this weight, but Chat Noir is displeased, and you, who have buried your true feelings behinds false happiness, have fallen victim to the Papillon.” Fu’s eyes watered. “I am so terribly sorry. I failed to protect you.”

Marinette could only stare, as Fu’s head bowed in shame. Then, the words came to her.

“Why are you apologising?” she asked, bluntly. Wayzz’s jaw dropped. “If it’s as you say, and the Miraculous are stronger in the hands of children, then giving it to someone more mature than us might have lead to more people getting hurt. Isn’t it, logically, better that you gave it to me? So what if I’m suffering? I’m one person out of many people whose lives have been saved.”

Fu raised his head. “Marinette, I do not think--”

Marinette rose to her feet, eyes blazing. Her fists were clenched, not in anger, but in determination.

“The Papillon can’t attack me now, he might go after my family, and I might live to regret that, but if stopping him and saving Paris requires sacrifices, then I will make that sacrifice.” She clenched her jaw. “And I know I’m only saying this because the akuma is messing me up, but I will take down the Papillon one way or another. You might feel sorry for giving me the Miraculous, but I’m glad you did. At least now, there’s something I’m useful and needed for.”

She took back the earring, picked up her bag, and made for the door.

“Marinette,” Fu called out, “the only way for you to free the akuma is to accept the feelings it came to you for.”

“Good,” said Marinette, looking over her shoulder. “That gives me the rest of my life to expose Gabriel Agreste.”

She opened the door and slipped out before Fu could even get off the mat.

 

Sleep came to her fitfully. Twice she woke with the feeling of butterflies against her skin, and another time she dreamt of her peers with their demonic faces, turning their backs on her and cackling about her uselessness. She woke up before dawn and gave up on the pretense of sleep, and instead spent the remaining hours before school sketching into her notebook.

It was very morbid, but she did wonder what the Papillon would have transformed her into has she said yes.

Misericordia. Compassion. Mercy. Pity. He’d wanted her to make others suffer the way she did. Perhaps he’d only focused on the “misery” then.

She doodled designs, some more practical than others. Ladybug and Chat Noir were very practical, but the akumatised victims normally looked less than conventional. Maybe if she were a ranged attacker, she could wear a dress like Reflekta or the Marionnettiste.

Marinette flipped back through her sketches. She didn’t have the time to make a locket for Tikki, so she pinned the earring inside a spare locket. It was too light for her comfort though, she’d have to buy another that was heavy enough that she wouldn’t forget it.

In the quiet of the night, with most of her part of the city asleep, all the voices fell to a soft, inaudible murmur. She could almost doze off to it.

Nights like these, when she was feeling restless, she would transform into Ladybug and take a midnight stroll. Surely, she couldn’t do that anymore; she’d have to leave through the front door and risk hell on earth if her parents found out.

She closed her notebook and grabbed her slippers. Akumatised or not, she could still hang out on the rooftop.

The stars were always muted in Paris, but the city’s horizon twinkled in mimicry. She breathed in the night air, and leaned into the railing.

“I can do this,” she said to herself. “I can do this, alone.”

For the first time in quite some time, she was truly alone. No Tikki, no friends, no one at all.

Her parents were sweet, they always were, but she couldn’t confide in them the way she’d learnt to confide in her kwami and her peers. Still, she greatly appreciated that their attitudes towards her were exactly as she thought. She could almost act normal around them with her newfound powers.

What a familiar feeling, being so loved by her mother and father, yet having no friends.

Fu had said the akuma would suppress her feelings, and perhaps it was, because for all the sadness she knew she should feel, all she could feel was a hollow emptiness, and a spark of rage.

“I got this,” she told the city. “I’ll save you all, no matter what.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we need marinette to actually snap because cristina vee is the COOLEST at evil voices??? i would die for velvet crowe.
> 
>  **[jamdraws](http://jamdraws.tumblr.com/post/183043345652/)** drew a doodle for this fic when i was first writing this chapter back in december and i'm still lowkey screaming????


	2. antagonise at your own risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out Alya and co have more than one braincell, and Gabriel is a twat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy CRAP this blew up, i'm really REALLY glad everyone's liking it so far! i have a vague idea of where this is going and i'm not sure everyone's going to like it, but y'know, marinette gets to be badass and angry, and that's pretty much the entire point.
> 
> oh also, warning for violence because, yknow, Gabriel's a twat! (also marinette has... had? suicidal thoughts. so like, careful there.)
> 
> no betaing we die like men (but thanks to jam and roxy again for reading the older drafts and roxy in particular for helping me w the alya scenes) but yeah

Marinette didn’t remember falling asleep, only that at some point she’d gone from lying on her bed, her blankets wrapped around one half of her leg, and then she was walking down a street without a single wonder as to why or how she’d gotten there. The sky was dim, and people were wandering about in the early dawn, setting up shops and heading off to morning commitments.

It wasn’t too warm outside, but she had overdressed for the day. It’d be fine though; the campus buildings would likely feel freezing anyway.

The light changed just as she reached an intersection, and she stepped off the curb. A car drove into view, and didn’t stop at the red. Her hands flew up, and tires screamed.

Marinette woke up with a jolt. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she rubbed at her eyes, then took in the sound of a car horn honking from outside her window.

**holy fuck watch the light jesus ch**

**finish crossing the street you**

She descended the steps and made for her window. On the street, a car had stopped before a woman, who was yelling at the driver.

Marinette stepped back and sat down on her couch. No, it wasn’t a dream, she’d just picked up someone’s thoughts in her sleep. She rubbed at her temple as more voices filtered in.

“Shut up already, will you?” she muttered to herself. She had to talk to Fu and figure out how to control these things.

The car drove off and the woman continued her way to the university campus, and life went on.

The girl took a deep breath and tried to ground herself. Focus on what she had to do, not what anyone else was thinking. She could do this. She was Marinette. She’d defied all odds and beat the Papillon time after time. She could handle some white noise.

Marinette exhaled. There. She’d be fine.

Her phone pinged. She rolled off the couch and headed up the stairs. It was Alya.

“If you can, meet me at school before class. I’ll be there forty minutes before Bustier’s class.”

She groaned. Her alarm hadn’t even gone off yet. What did Alya want?

The typing notification popped up for a few seconds, and then another message came in:

“It’s about Lila.”

Her brows furrowed. Did Alya finally figure out Lila was lying? No, Alya clearly liked Lila too much to take her down from her pedestal.

The typing dots returned, then:

“Adrien’ll be there.”

Marinette blinked. About Lila, and Adrien would be there? Had he told Alya about the day in the park? Maybe they _had_ figured out Lila was lying.

A bitter cold settled over the back of her shoulders. So Alya didn’t believe her, but believed Adrien? Unbelievable.

Darkness crept around the edges of her vision, and before she knew it, she slammed her free fist into the wall. Instead of a spike of pain, she felt a familiar, dull jolt up her hand. She pulled back.

There was a crack in the wall, right where she’d made impact.

Marinette stared at her hand and dropped her phone on the bed. Wisps of purple dissipated into the air, and then vanished.

“Marinette?”

“Sorry! I dropped something!” she lied, scurrying down the steps to her bed and grabbing one of the paper flowers pasted on the wall by the window.

“Okay!”

She repositioned the flower over the new crack and picked up her phone once more. Her hands were normal, no magical vapour or any sign of injury.

Breathe. She couldn’t afford whatever bursts of anger were going on. Clearly the Papillon had given her some other unintended power. She was getting angry over nothing.

“I’ll be there,” she replied, then immediately tossed her phone aside and descended for her closet.

Her supposed friends had shown their truths, and right now, she had bigger matters than petty schoolyard drama. If she couldn’t get everyone else’s thoughts under control, if she couldn’t get her own feelings under control, then she’d draw more attention to herself. The last thing she wanted was for her friends to notice something amiss and fret over her even more. At least for now, she had the excuse of Lila’s existence to cover things up.

In the mirror, Marinette didn’t look any different. Same eyes, same pigtails, same style of clothes. She’d swapped out Tikki’s earring for a purple earcuff, so the one with the akuma wouldn’t look out of place, and looped the temporary locket around her neck. She could go to the store after school for the replacement.

Marinette checked her phone. She had to leave soon if she wanted to meet up with Alya. Presumably, whatever they had to talk about would take a while, if Alya was willing to get to school so early.

Her lips pursed.

All right, then.

She could do it.

 

The school grounds were relatively sparse, since most students wouldn’t show up for another half hour. Alya was sat on one of the benches on the courtyard perimeter. Beside her were Nino and Adrien, and even from the door, she could hear their voices.

**really hope she comes**

**did we have to do this in the morning**

**seems to know what she’s doing**

It was Nino who saw her first and waved at her. Alya leapt from the bench and made to hug her, then thought better and just gave a wave as well. Adrien only smiled in greeting.

“Marinette!” Alya beamed at her, her cheerfulness a far cry from the anxious desperation of yesterday. “Sorry for dragging you out here so early. I know you’re not an early bird.”

“It’s fine,” she said easily, “I woke up before you even texted me. What did you need to talk about?”

Alya breathed in sharply and looked to Adrien and Nino. Marinette tried her hardest to block out their thoughts, but it slipped through. Oh.

“Adrien warned Nino that Lila was lying,” Alya started. “And he told him about the day that Lila was akumatised. And then Nino told me about it, and I realised… it was exactly as you said.”

Marinette closed her eyes. “Go on.”

“Well,” Alya radiated unease, “you were right. About Lila. She is lying about Ladybug, and probably a bunch of other things, like having tinnitus and a sprained wrist and being a master fencer.”

She didn’t reply, only nodded without opening her eyes. Nino flared with guilt.

“You were right, Marinette. I should have listened to you when you told me about Ladybug, but I just didn’t believe Ladybug or Lila would do those things, and I knew you didn’t like Lila to begin with—”

The anger returned. Marinette opened her eyes, and Alya cut herself off. Behind her, Nino had placed his hand over his eyes. Adrien looked uncomfortable.

“You didn’t trust me,” she summarised, her voice dropping in accusation. “You basically thought I was lying to slander Lila. It was never about whether or not Lila would do such things, Alya, the fact is that you believed a girl you’d just met over someone you’ve known since the start of the school year.”

The anger simmered and bubbled, roiling in her stomach like a toxic brew, daring to melt down any sensibility left in her akumatised body. It wanted vengeance, to punish Alya for not believing her, to punish Adrien for never speaking up sooner, to punish Nino for standing by and letting it all happen—

Marinette turned on her heel and clutched at her chest. This was familiar. Too familiar. She breathed in, and a sniffle came out. Even when given the freedom to feel, she couldn’t let her anger get the better of her.

“Marinette,” Alya’s voice was weak. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. That was my mistake. I’m going to fix it, I promise. I’m going to confront Lila in private and make her confess to lying.”

“And if she doesn’t?” her words came out cold.

“Adrien’s promised to give me an interview about Ladybug calling out Lila in the park. If Lila doesn’t confess herself, then I’ll show everyone the truth.”

“So you finally verified your sources, huh,” Marinette said flatly. Alya reeled.

“Marinette,” Adrien interjected, “Alya’s sorry for what she did, and she’s going to fix it. You shouldn’t be so harsh with her, now.”

She turned back around and met Adrien’s eyes. He meant what he said. He thought she should forgive Alya, for after all, Alya had already apologised, and all was well.

Naive. Sheltered. Clueless.

Her vision grew dark. Nino flinched, and his guilt spiked.

Marinette turned back to Alya without another word. The girl was curling into herself, now. Guilt and regret emanated from her being in waves; she truly felt bad for what she’d done.

Alya didn’t mean to hurt her, not really, and she knew what she’d done was wrong; she’d learnt her lesson. But on the other hand, Alya was always brushing Marinette’s fears aside, always teasing her and pinning things on Adrien. And Marinette allowed it, because it was just how Alya showed her affection. She was impulsive and leapt before she thought. But when it truly mattered—Alya had let her fall.

Would she forgive her? If Marinette hadn’t been akumatised?

Guilt hurt. Sorrow hurt. It was easier to be angry, easier to hate, to despise.

And how she so _despised_ her classmates.

But Marinette was akumatised, now. Her anger and sadness were exacerbated by the magic. She didn’t know if she’d forgive Alya. She didn’t know if she’d leave her hanging.

Her shoulders relaxed. It didn’t matter what Marinette felt or what she’d normally do. What mattered was putting this behind them. She couldn’t focus on getting rid of the Papillon if she kept compromising herself with her anger towards her classmates, nor if Alya or Adrien or Nino kept pestering her for forgiveness.

She would forgive them, but she would never ever forget.

“I forgive you,” Marinette said finally, ducking her head to the ground. She felt Alya’s surprise. “Just please don’t do that again.”

“Thank you,” Alya’s voice broke. Her hands moved, hesitant, and Marinette read her intent.

She opened her arms, and Alya hugged her tightly. Marinette shut her eyes and forced herself to return the embrace. The explosion of grief and relief and sadness and the slightest bit of self-deprecation gave her the impression of holding a star, burning with emotions and leaving Marinette overwhelmed.

Finally, after either a few seconds or eternities, Alya let go, and took off her glasses to wipe at her eyes.

“We’re still friends, then?” Alya asked, a hesitant smile on her face.

Marinette pulled her lips into forgiveness.

“Yeah,” she said. “We are.”

Alya shone with unabashed joy, and Marinette was blinded by it.

“So, are you going to confront her before class?” asked Marinette.

Alya nodded. “Adrien and I are gonna ask to speak with her once she gets to school. If she gets here late, we’ll ask her between classes.”

“I see,” she said, nodding. “Do you really think she’s going to confess?”

“I… I’m hoping she was just doing it to like, y’know, fit in at school, I mean she _is_ the new girl, and I’m guessing she does travel a lot. Maybe telling a few lies helps her make friends,” Alya said simply. She saw Marinette’s face. “Not that that excuses her, or anything. I mean, she might have lied about the tinnitus, so…”

“I’m sure she’ll tell the truth,” Adrien said. “I think she just wants friends and doesn’t know how to make them honestly.”

Marinette ignored him. Nino interrupted.

“Sorry,” he said, stepping around them and facing Marinette. “Since we have like, twenty minutes left before class, could we talk about yesterday’s Philosophy class? I didn’t really get it.”

Marinette eyed him.

**man they really suck at remembering anything i told them don’t they know it’s a bad idea to say things like that when**

“Oh, sure,” she said, with a false smile, “I left my Philosophy notes in my locker, though. How about you and I go grab them, and we’ll rejoin Alya and Adrien in the classroom?”

“Yep, no problem,” said Alya, while Adrien blinked in confusion.

Nino beamed. “We’ll see you in a bit, then.”

And he practically ran away from them.

 

The moment they pushed open the locker room doors, Nino let out an annoyed sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, as they made their way to her section.

“I don’t understand why you’re apologising,” Marinette said, swinging the locker door open and unpacking her backpack. She had taken her class notes at home after the school day, but she _did_ have to drop off textbooks for her afternoon classes.

Nino sat down on the opposing bench.

“Because I didn’t stand up for you when Lila was talking about her tinnitus. And I didn’t say anything when you were crying.”

“That’s not your fault,” she stated simply.

“Stop.”

Marinette turned and met Nino’s eyes. He was serious.

“Look, I…” he took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “I honestly don’t understand how you could forgive me or the rest of the people from our old school, after what Chloé did to you—after what we let her get away with doing to you.”

A chill went down Marinette’s back. Nino continued, his eyes falling to the ground.

“I’m sorry, not just because I didn’t do anything, but because no one else in the class did either. After everything you’ve done for us, we didn’t stick up for you when you sensibly asked Lila for proof. We were cowards, and we didn’t care about what you felt.”

Marinette tilted her head.

“Do you feel better, referring to yourself as a group?”

Nino looked up at her.

“It… I’m sure the rest of the class feels this way, too.”

Marinette let out a sigh.

“You told Mademoiselle Bustier that it was Ladybug and Chat Noir who taught you not to be a bystander, but I don’t really know if they have,” Marinette said bluntly. “I’m glad you feel bad, Nino. I’m glad Alya does, too. It means you do know what you didn’t do was wrong. But, you know, just because you feel bad, doesn’t make up for what you did wrong, or that the person you wronged needs to forgive you.”

She held up a hand before Nino could interject.

“I do forgive you. And Alya. And the entire class. But my forgiveness doesn’t mean anything if none of you will actually change your ways.” she turned back, and started to close her locker. “It’s like how Chloé says she’s a good person, but she really hasn’t changed at all. Just because you feel bad, doesn’t mean you’ve fixed your mistakes.”

She slid the lock shut, and Nino spoke.

“How do you still forgive, Marinette?” his brows were furrowed. “You’re really kind, you always have been, but if I were you, I think I’d hold a grudge.”

A different person surfaced in Nino’s mind. Ah, so it wasn’t just her.

“I think people can learn from their mistakes,” she said. “Especially if they don’t seem to know they’ve made a mistake to begin with. Adrien’s sweet, but he’s sheltered and not just in a cute way. He’s never had friends before this year besides Chloé, so I don’t think he knows how awful he sounds when he tries to excuse them. But, it’s not like that changes how much it hurts, either.”

“So I should tell him why what he says isn’t okay?”

Marinette shrugged, then held Nino’s gaze. “You mean well, Nino. If you can’t stand up to your best friend, then you’re just enabling whatever they do. It’s not a sign of friendship to let them do whatever they want.”

Nino chuckled. “I don’t understand how you don’t have more friends,” he said. “I guess we were all just idiots.”

“Because I give good advice?”

“You just seem to have everything under control,” he said, smiling slightly. “I’m so sorry, Marinette. You really deserved to be treated better than you have.”

“Nah,” she said easily, “it’s fine. Besides…”

She rested her hands on Nino’s shoulders, looking down at him. A current ran through her.

“I know you didn’t mean it, so it’s okay.”

Nino gave a shiver, and Marinette pulled back, plastering a smile on her face.

“Come on,” she said, stepping for the door. “I need to help you catch up on Philosophy, right?”

“Oh, yeah.”

It didn’t matter what Marinette felt. It never had. All she had to do, was carve a path of least resistance, and everyone else would follow.

After all, that was what they expected from her.

 

Lila showed up just after Marinette and Nino did. Alya stood up at the front, and interrupted Lila’s morning greetings.

“Hey, Lila,” she said, giving little away, “can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Oh, sure,” Lila chirped, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “What do you need? Another interview with Ladybug?”

“You could say that,” Alya smiled thinly. She headed out the classroom door, and Lila followed, tailed by Adrien.

**what is adrien doing with us?**

**jesus she doesn’t have a tell at all**

**i hope she takes this well**

Marinette tried to tune things out and returned to showing Nino the notes she’d taken last night. After a few seconds, though, it was evident Nino was no longer thinking about fallacies. His eyes were locked over her shoulder and out the classroom window.

“You don’t think she’s gonna take this lying down, do you?” Nino asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Marinette mumbled, taking to doodling a circle on her notes. “Even someone like her should know when to fold.”

“She wasn’t even a good liar,” Nino said. “Why did we all believe her?”

Marinette shrugged. Truthfully, she couldn’t see it either. Lila was a shit manipulator. The smoothest move she’d ever pulled was stealing Adrien’s book.

Or maybe her classmates were all dumb.

There was a spike of something volatile, and Marinette grimaced. There it was. A distant flood pricked at her brain. She tried not to make it out.

“I think that’s all,” said Nino unconvincingly. “Thanks for your notes, Marinette.”

“Not a problem,” she replied, packing them up. “Let me know if you need any more help.”

Nino collected his books, then paused for a moment.

**really too nice can’t stop her why is she unexpected don’t deserve**

The guilt was smothering.

“Nino,” she said, looking up at him. He blinked and she smiled. “Thank you for worrying about me earlier.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, “that’s… what a friend should do.”

His guilt eased a little. Marinette felt nothing.

Alya and Adrien returned, Alya radiating annoyance, and Adrien shying into himself. Lila was nowhere to be seen.

**are you fucking serious she lied to us not the time fuck too nice for his own good**

**really ladybug shouldn’t have didn’t mean it lies are**

Marinette frowned, and tried to focus on Adrien’s thoughts. Why couldn’t this thing be more coherent?

**just said she could promise that**

She breathed in deeply and delved into the stream of consciousness.

**lila’s lies are pretty much harmless, we don’t need to expose her, as long as we know the truth**

Alya’s annoyance spiked, and Marinette was starting to understand why.

**does he live under a rock oh of course he does letting her continue lying was never an option oh my god**

Marinette looked at the back of Adrien’s head, and wondered why she’d ever crushed on him.

 

Adrien had told Mademoiselle Bustier Lila had left the classroom before class started, but she was definitely present. When, by the time Bustier was set up for her lecture, Lila still wasn’t in her seat, Bustier called on Marinette.

“Marinette, could you go find Lila?” she asked gently. Marinette resisted the urge to frown and ask why not just call the office and tell them to page for Lila to go back to class, but Bustier was smiling and Marinette couldn’t bring herself to object any further. Kind Marinette would be happy to help.

She sought out negative feelings, and tracked Lila down to the girl’s washroom on the lower floor. The stalls were all empty, save one. She could hear Lila sniffling, and briefly recalled her own experience just yesterday.

“Lila?” she called out. “Are you in here?”

The sniffles paused. Then, there was a nasal “Leave me alone” from the closed stall.

“It’s Marinette,” she continued. “You know, I’m partnered with you for that German project?”

“I said, leave me alone,” repeated Lila.

“Mademoiselle is worried for you,” Marinette ignored her. “Class started fifteen minutes ago. I can tell her when you’re ready to come back.”

“I told you to _leave me alone_!”

Lila’s words reverberated around the room, but Marinette didn’t even flinch. If Alya’s feelings were a star of relief, Lila’s were a black hole collapsing in on itself.

Hatred, fury, resentment, pity, despair—all those feelings roiled together and clashed like waves. Lila’s poorly constructed house of cards had fallen, and she had no one to blame but herself—and everyone around her for not playing along like the shallow puppets she’d imagined them to be. She had nothing left, because she never had anything to begin with.

Marinette couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for the girl at all. She had lied, badly, and was getting her comeuppance for it. She had made her bed, and now she could lie in it.

But…

“I don’t get why you’d lie to begin with.”

“What?” Lila hiccoughed inside the stall.

“Your parents really are diplomats, aren’t they? So you _do_ travel a lot. Honestly, I don’t understand why you’d lie at all. People would probably like you just as you are.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me,” Lila snarled. Her threat was tapered by her stuffy nose and choked up words. “Don’t pretend you know me.”

“I don’t,” she lied. “Honestly, I can’t promise that the class will forgive you if you tell them the truth, even if you do play up the ‘woe is me’ line. But I can promise that if you don’t fess up, and Alya breaks the news to them, it’ll be so much worse.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?!”

I don’t care if you do, thought Marinette.

“Stop trying to think of how you can regain their trust, or how you’re gonna get revenge or whatever, because that’s not the issue here. You were already lucky Adrien didn’t tell everyone why you were akumatised. You should have given up then and quit while you were ahead, but now you have to tell the truth and people will resent you for misleading them. All I’m saying is, if you do it of your own volition, you can at least save face and people will go easier on you because you told them yourself.”

“Shut up, already!” Lila’s foot stomped on the stall floor. “Stop acting like you know what’s best for me, or that you’re so much better than me. Do you wanna know why I lied to everyone?”

Not really, thought Marinette, but Lila wasn’t talking to her specifically anymore.

“It’s because people are shallow, and stupid, and vain! I’ve been to dozens of schools all around the world, and I’ve made loads of friends, but none of them remember me after I’m gone. All they care about is how entertaining I am when I’m there, and if they do talk to me, it’s to see if I can do them favours or use my connections. People don’t give a shit about you unless you’re useful to them, and you of all people should know that’s true.”

“Really?” Marinette deadpanned.

Lila huffed. “Because your friends turned on you so quickly for me, yesterday. I didn’t ask that you be moved to the back, _Alya_ did. No one defended you, and you’re supposed to be their class president or something? People believe me because they think they’ll get something out of the lies I tell them, but they ignored you because you weren’t any use to them anymore.”

Marinette closed her eyes. She hated to admit it, but Lila did have a point there—a very jaded, cynical point, but a point nonetheless. A point she might have agreed with at her lowest of lows.

“Maybe so, but I think you’ve also taught them all a lesson,” Marinette said quietly. “When they learn the truth, maybe they’ll reconsider their biases and how much friendship really means to them. I wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who lied to me, nor would I want to be friends with someone who dropped me for someone else just because they seemed cooler. If they consider that, they might also think about how much they put into their own friendships and realise they can’t be so fickle about things.”

Lila scoffed. “No way. None of them are that perceptive.”

“Aren’t you?” prompted Marinette. She smiled, but it wasn’t out of kindness. “You’re perceptive enough to see that they’re easily mislead, but do you think no one else is as aware about friendships as you are?”

Lila fell silent.

“I like giving people second chances,” said Marinette. “I like to trust they will learn from their mistakes and do better for themselves and for others. Maybe that’s naive of me, but it also means I can give up on people who won’t take it. It’s up to them.”

She stepped away from the stall and looked at herself in the mirror. Still normal.

“I’m going to tell Bustier you’ll be back in five minutes. After that, she’s probably gonna have the office page you or something.” Marinette said.

The other girl didn’t respond, and Marinette left the room with a surreal calm around her.

She hadn’t felt angry with Lila.

She hadn’t felt anything at all.

 

She met with Fu during her lunch period, partially so she could avoid having to be around her friends, and partially so he could help her tune out the voices. She had a study period right after, so there was no worry of missing a class.

He’d frowned at her upon her arrival, and looked a bit upset with her.

“You have suppressed your feelings,” he noted.

“I guess,” she said, a bit blunter than she intended. “I can’t think half the time otherwise.”

“You mustn’t do that,” he advised. “You should clear your thoughts, rather than bury your emotions. The akuma has already dulled your feelings, Marinette, it is dangerous to hide them even more.”

“How am I supposed to ‘clear my thoughts’, then?”

“Focus on what you can feel, Marinette, instead of telling yourself it doesn’t matter,” he instructed. “They do matter.”

“They kinda don’t,” she said. “If I let my feelings out, people are gonna worry, and if people worry, I’m gonna get annoyed with them even more because they won’t leave me alone and their feelings are just, _everywhere_.”

“Which is the problem, is it not? You need to learn how to control those powers of perception, but you cannot do so if you cannot concentrate without the telepathy.” Fu smiled. “Here, I will think of some thoughts, and you try to tell me about something that made you happy.”

She tried, and failed, and punched the floor in frustration. He didn’t even flinch, not even when her hand came away with a chip in the floorboard, and wisps of purple.

“This happened this morning, too,” she managed to recount through the haze of frustration.

“You feel angry because it gives you the illusion of control,” said Fu, always calm and soothing. “The akuma has suppressed your pain and sadness, but those feelings have not gone, and when they surface, their outlet is in violence.”

“I get it,” she growled without thinking, “I’m sorry I didn’t consider the drawbacks when I got akumatised.”

Fu didn’t reply, and eventually the learned politeness returned. Fu was nothing but understanding, and _kind_ , and he blamed himself for her mistakes. He wasn’t like Alya or Adrien or her classmates. He didn’t deserve to bear her anger.

Marinette wanted to punch herself for her own cruelty.

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her head. “I know this is just the akuma affecting me, but it’s not right to hurt people who are only trying to help.”

“You don’t resent me for what I’ve done to you,” Fu noted. “This _is_ my fault.”

“I don’t understand why you think I should, to be honest,” Marinette admitted, meeting his eyes. “Before I became Ladybug, I was a nervous wreck with no friends, and I didn’t think I could ever accomplish anything. But after the Papillon appeared, I realised I could actually help people, and leave a mark on this world.”

“Marinette,” started Fu.

“I know, you don’t need superpowers to affect the world, but if it weren’t for Ladybug…” She paused. “I think Ladybug saved my life, too.”

“Oh, Marinette…”

“It’s fine,” Marinette smiled instinctively, but she meant her words. What should have been a deep secret was nothing more than a fact of her past now. “I’m back to where I started, but at least I have a purpose now. If stopping the Papillon ruins my life, or if this stress kills me, I’m glad it was me and not someone who actually had hopes for the future.”

Fu took her free hand in between his own. They were trembling. Marinette looked up, and Fu was crying. Faintly, she felt a regret that wasn’t hers.

“Look,” said Marinette, resting her other hand on top of his. “I can’t stop you from feeling this way, but,” her smile softened. “The Marinette you chose was truly grateful you gave her something to live for, and she would never fault you for saving her life.”

Fu’s hands shook, and Marinette held on to them until his sobs subsided.

In the quiet apartment, with someone she couldn’t read, everything snapped into sharp focus. She didn’t care what anyone else thought, she only acted to get them out of her way. As long as she got Agreste to surrender, nothing else mattered. Even if she wanted to care about her future, how was she even supposed to move on, knowing the things she did?

“Marinette,” Fu whispered. Their eyes met again. “Please know, you can depend on those around you. It is not your sole burden to bear.”

She nodded. She didn’t understand what he meant, really, but—

“I know it’s been a very long time since you’ve felt anger, Marinette,” his eyes glimmered, “too much of it can ruin you, but to ignore it completely will destroy you from within.”

“I understand,” she lied. “I’ll be careful.”

The joy in Fu’s eyes rivalled Alya’s star of emotions.

 

Lila confessed at the start of SVT, much to Mendeleiv’s annoyance. She derailed class for a solid ten minutes, until Mendeleiv got fed up and regained control. It looked _bad_ , from what Alix’s Snapchat Story caught, and Marinette was very glad she wasn’t in that class to feel everyone’s emotions spilling over.

The rest of the school day passed with much chatter from the student body, and Marinette heard numerous thought threads about how people “knew she was too good to be true”. Not too good to raise doubt, of course, but they knew _all along_. Totally.

Alya stopped her at her locker at the end of the school day.

“I updated the Ladyblog to retract Lila’s interview,” she said. “So that’s over.”

“Good to hear,” Marinette said automatically.

“Yeah, I really should have checked my sources,” said Alya. “You were right to doubt her.”

“Mhm.”

“I was wondering,” Alya began, “if you’d wanna grab a smoothie or something right now?”

“Actually… I have to run an errand for my parents,” said Marinette, giving her an apologetic look. “Maybe another time?”

Alya was disappointed. Marinette would have to make up for that later, lest Alya think too closely and worry.

She sufficed by giving Alya a hug and bise. The emotions felt repulsive.

“Another time, then,” Alya smiled, assuaged. “See you, Marinette.”

"Goodbye, Alya."

 

She picked up a locket from the jewellers. It didn’t need to be pretty, or even match her aesthetic, because no one would be seeing it. It was just heavy enough that she wouldn’t lose it. She dropped it into her bag and started home, when the Papillon tuned into her head.

 _You seem happy_ , he noted.

‘No thanks to you,’ she replied, pulling out her phone and faking a call. “What do you want?” she asked aloud.

 _Not much_ , he said, _but you picked the wrong type of shoes today._

“What are you talking about?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. She was wearing sandals.

A chill ran down her spine. She looked around instinctively. Just pedestrians and cars passing by.

“You’re a creep,” she said. She forced herself to cross the street and pulled her phone away from her ear. In the reflection, a man was jogging leisurely behind her. She turned the corner.

_Surrender the akuma, and perhaps your family will see you at dinner tonight._

‘If you go after my family, I’ll go for what you have left,’ she thought to him, raising the phone back to her face. “I’ll ruin him.”

 _You would not,_ he said, _you’re too moral to do such a thing, and you love him, after all._

“Things change,” she said quietly. “Sometimes you realise they’re not the person you thought they were. Besides, we all have to make sacrifices. I’m willing, but are you?”

_Surrender now, Marinette. I’d hate to cause a scene._

Her pulse quickened. She looked over her shoulder. The jogger was still behind her. She stopped, pretending to look at a storefront sign, and focused.

**do not engage too public wait**

Marinette turned back and continued walking. The Papillon laughed in her head, but an eerie calm had settled in her stomach.

‘Are you going to kill me?’ she asked. The thought didn’t scare her.

 _Of course not,_ he lied, _you only know my real identity. Who would believe you?_

Asshole.

She wasn’t fully akumatised, she had no weapons, and no special abilities except reading people’s minds and emotions—and she could deliver one hell of a punch if she got mad enough.

Marinette dropped her phone back into her pocket and stepped into an alleyway.

The jogger halted at the fork and made a show of pausing to check his smartwatch. Then he turned onto the path and made his way into the shadows.

He hit a dead end, with no target in sight. He braced himself, but it was too late.

_What are you—_

A blow knocked him onto his hands and knees, winding him. He attempted to roll onto his back, but a force stomped down on the back of his knee, and he howled. His opponent didn’t waver at the noise, and delivered a series of kicks to his stomach, before finally stepping away when her assassin didn’t put up a fight.

“Shit,” Marinette said to herself. She wrung her hands. The ‘jogger’ wheezed and spat out blood. She’d completely shattered his kneecap. She really underestimated her anger there.

_What the fuck._

“Same,” she said, eyes fixed on the man.

The confusion on the other end indicated the Papillon had thought the same as she, that she couldn’t be superpowered until she agreed to being akumatised. Marinette kept staring at the hitman. She’d never used her superstrength against a normal human being before. Compared to akumas, this man was porcelain.

“Hello?”

Oh, of course, only a tourist would be so stupid as to wander into a dark alley after hearing screams.

She looked up at the wall. Was fear enough to power her? Her feet braced against the ground, and she threw herself at it. In a few jumps, she scaled onto the rooftop of the neighbouring building.

The Papillon was really getting pissed at her.

“Looks like you really screwed up,” she said, trying to ground herself in the moment. She could _not_ be caught beating up some guy, even if she could say it was self-defence.

_I’ve had enough of you._

“You could just surrender yourself,” she retorted, “and I’d stop posing so much trouble for you.”

She sprinted across to the next alley and frowned. Not worth risking shattering her feet by hitting the ground straight-on. She rolled and grimaced at the impact. No, it wasn’t exactly like Ladybug.

 _Who are you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?_ he demanded. _You’re not supposed to do any of that._

“Maybe this is just what happens when you akumatise someone who doesn’t want your help,” she said, brushing the dirt off her clothes. She stepped onto the street and pulled out her phone again, when there was a spike of fear from the direction of the alley she’d fled from. Someone had found the guy.

The Papillon’s anger burst, and he detransformed. Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief.

Then the adrenaline crash hit, and she nearly faceplanted into the ground.

Aw, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lila doesn't get a huge comeuppance scene because... seriously. she poses no threat when people have more than two shared braincells.
> 
> oh also instead of college everyone's in their first year of lycee (thus validating sabrina's "new school, new year, new seats" comment in origins, and explaining why not everyone is aware of how chloe is). nino, sabrina, marinette, and chloe went to the same college while everyone else in the class came from different schools.


	3. a hero's purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette recovers from the assassination attempt, and school drama pales in the face of attempted murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every time i check my stats page i cry yall really like this fic and it makes me feel things thank you so much for the support T^T
> 
> thank you to the-dark-black-angel and recklesslyroxywrites for proofreading this chapter~
> 
>  **03/23 edit:** made some minor edits and added a bit before the fu scene because. unclear writing. don't publish at 5am yall.

Her body, she determined, was a stupid flesh prison that needed to chill the fuck out already.

Marinette pulled herself to the side of the path, and knelt down to her knees, pretending to go through her backpack, as her useless body went through the five stages of grief and then some thinking she was going to _die right now_ if she didn’t curl up and hide.

Her limbs shook and her heart hammered away as she made a show of rifling through her notebooks. No one noticed. Good.

She’d been through so much worse than curb-stomping an assassin. She’d known Agreste had money and power and would probably try to come after her personally. It wasn’t even the first time as Marinette that she’d been in a life-threatening situation.

But no, her physical form was one-hundred-and-fifty-percent certain she needed to panic, all the while her rational mind knew otherwise.

 She didn’t care if he tried to kill her. She didn’t care if he tried to kill anyone she cared about. Feeling was what got her into this mess in the first place, and _feeling_ wasn’t going to be what got her out of it either.

It was a weakness, a liability, a **flaw**. She had no use for it in her situation. If she felt anything for anyone, Agreste would use it against her, especially now that he knew he couldn’t attack her directly.

More importantly, _Agreste_ still felt. He loved Adrien. He could be compromised. She could jab at that pressure point and take him down easily.

So why was her stupid body still freaking out?

She zipped her bag shut and pulled out her phone. She stared at the dark reflection until her skin stopped tingling and her heartrate went back to normal.

This wouldn’t do, if she couldn’t even do one-sided battle without going into shock.

Marinette picked up her backpack and rose to her feet.

No, this wouldn’t do at all.

 

She made her way home with little issue afterwards, and found her mother preparing dinner. Her father must have been manning the bakery.

“Did you have a good day at school, Marinette?” her mother asked, earnest and genuine. “I saw Alya at the bakery just an hour ago.”

“It was just the usual,” replied Marinette, a well-practiced smile on her face. Her mother’s warmth passed right through her.

“I see.” Her mother turned away from the stove. A hint of doubt wavered around her. “Did you tell Alya you were running an errand for us?”

“Oh.” Marinette’s body shrunk back. “I’m sorry, she wanted to go out after school, and I didn’t want to explain why, so I lied.”

Her mother’s doubt melted. She crossed the kitchen and quickly wiped her hands down on the towel. She rested her hands on Marinette’s shoulders and clear worry filtered into Marinette’s head.

“You’re allowed to say ‘no’ to your friends, Marinette,” her mother said softly. “Even to your best friend. Alya seems like a sweet girl, she wouldn’t be angry with you if you chose to go home.”

“No, I know that, maman,” said Marinette, pulling her face into a smile. “Alya’s great.”

“Good,” her mother touched her cheek, and Marinette felt a warmth in her chest that wasn’t hers. The heat hovered, alone.

Her mother pulled her in for a hug, and Marinette didn’t flinch from the smothering love. It passed over her like a warm breeze.

“You’ve grown so much, Marinette. I’m so glad you’ve made so many good friends this year. You look so much better than you did a year ago.”

“Maman,” Marinette wriggled out of her hold, feigning embarrassment.

Her mother chuckled, and brushed Marinette’s bangs aside. A wave of viscously sweet feelings washed through her with an undercurrent of nostalgia and faint regret. Sabine Cheng really couldn’t believe her daughter was a teenager now.

“All right,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to Marinette’s forehead. “Don’t worry, your old mom won’t embarrass you. But,” a protective worry rose, “you know you can tell me about anything that happens, right? I know your dad and I are always so busy with the bakery, but you always come before anything else. You know that, right?”

Marinette nodded. Her mother beamed.

“Thanks, maman,” she said, freeing herself from the hold. “I’m gonna head up to my room now.”

“I’ll call you down for dinner.”

Her mother trusted her word completely.

 

Marinette tucked her earrings into the locket she’d bought.

Her family had always loved her and supported her the best they could. From childhood, she’d tried not to add to their stresses of their daily lives, and she downplayed any school-related inconvenience for their sake. Perhaps, in a different world, she would have eventually opened up to them, and depended upon them, but the Marinette they so cherished was no longer there, and she would not give up her chance at taking down the Papillon for good.

The locket shut.

 

Her body shivered, not from the summer night, but from the instinctive primal fear of heights. Marinette braced the arch of her boots against the peak of the rooftop. Parkour originated in France, after all, she could manage herself just fine.

It was different to being Ladybug. With no yo-yo to leverage her weight on, she could only count on herself. She cracked her knuckles and tugged at the fingerless gloves. As far as that evening’s fight had taught her, even if her mind was used to death-defying action, her body would panic instinctively if she didn’t detach herself well enough.

And she had no use for that.

She leapt off the rooftop, and rolled on impact. The force made her heart leap, but she stood and maintained the momentum to run at a parallel wall and climb up the storefront. And again. Again. Again.

Soon, the actions began to feel familiar. Hop, step, leap, catch, roll. Take the shortest possible course. Rooftops and buildings became tools rather than obstacles, methods to reach her destination rather than rules to force her path.

Marinette was back to being like Ladybug, sprinting across Paris in a way few ever would.

There wasn’t the fluttering feeling in her chest this time, no great big smile as the wind tousled her hair and the laws of physics bent themselves to her aid. Her heart wasn’t lodged in her throat in a dangerous glee as she ran with freedom in her hands and reckless joy in her soul.

This wasn’t Ladybug exercising her powers, this was a necessity to take down the Papillon.

Her feet landed hard on a rooftop, and Marinette stood overlooking Paris’ buildings. The wind buffeted her hair. The sleeping citizens murmured through her.

“It’ll be over very soon,” she said to the night. “Just watch me.”

 

Lila’s fall from grace was anything but graceful. The morning after, everyone was either ignoring her existence or falling over themselves to confront her. News had reached the teachers too, and someone overheard Bustier considering reassigning the class seats. Sitting in the back was very conducive to Marinette’s multitasking, but she wouldn’t be needing it for much longer, if all went to plan.

Chloé in particular was working herself into an outrage.

“Oh, look, Sabrina, it’s the class liar,” she said upon Lila’s arrival, and everyone’s attention immediately shifted to the front row. Marinette zoned out and ran through her plans again. It was so much easier to tune everyone out when she stopped feeling things. Their thoughts and feelings passed through her like nothing at all.

It was quite a change of pace to actively plot against the Papillon. As Ladybug, all her moves were reactionary; he’d send out an akuma and she’d have to take it down. Now, actually planning something of her own off the field of battle was almost enjoyable.

If she really were a supervillain, she’d do leagues better than Agreste ever could.

“Aww, what, are you falling for her?” Chloé's voice broke through her thoughts, followed by an exclamation of shock.

Marinette pursed her lips and checked back in. Nino was standing between Lila and Chloé, glaring at the latter while the former shrunk into her seat. The boy didn’t back down, but an embarrassment flared around him.

“No,” said Nino, his words firm despite his unease. “But you’re just being mean to Lila because you can.”

“Nino!” Alya and Adrien said in unison, but they had different intents.

“You know I’m right,” Nino insisted, though he crossed his arms defensively. “I’m hurt that Lila manipulated us, and it’s not cool that she did that, but you never even liked her, Chloé. You can’t pretend you’re angry or hurt. You just want to be mean to her, and you know no one will stop you because everyone else is mad at her too.”

“Nino,” Adrien recovered first, “You don’t know how Chloé feels—”

“Um, yeah I do, man,” Nino gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “I went to school with her for years, Adrien; it’s super obvious. Besides, Chloé’s lied to us before, too. Remember the class election? It’s not like she can claim the moral high ground.”

“Chloé’s different now—”

Nino laughed again. Adrien frowned. He was genuinely clueless.

“Look, whatever,” Nino said, waving a hand and turning back to Chloé. “Just back off already, Bourgeois. We all know you just want to cause drama for drama’s sake, and it’s really annoying.” He returned to his seat.

Chloé sneered, then threw Alya a look. “I really wouldn’t have your boyfriend sitting behind his new crush, if I were you.”

“You wish you were me, at least then you’d have a boyfriend you liked you for who you were instead of who your father is,” Alya replied tersely, but when she sat down next to Nino, she turned her head away from him.

Lila, thoroughly removed from the conversation, tried to blend into the desks. Adrien, turned to Chloé and touched her shoulder. She rolled her eyes and brushed the matter off.

Argument over, Marinette tuned everyone out again. Compared to school drama, plotting to kill a supervillain was infinitely easier.

 

School ended, gratefully, with less interruptions, as far as Marinette was aware. It was comical how easy it was to detach herself emotionally and mentally from the environment, once she accepted it as a necessity rather than clumsily clinging to it as a coping mechanism. The voices in her head were still there, the emotions she received were still floating around, but all she had to do was not care or pay attention, and they wouldn’t bother her at all.

At the end of the school day, Nino showed up at her locker, a haze of unease and discomfort trailing after him.

“Are you busy?” he asked preemptively. He wanted to head to a cafe and chat with her about Adrien.

Marinette considered declining. She wasn’t going to see Fu today; he’d surely disapprove of her response to Agreste trying to murder her. However, the timing of her plan was flexible, and the last thing she needed was Nino getting the hint that something was awry.

“Nope,” she said. “What’s up?”

“I, well,” his voice dropped slightly, “I wanted to talk to you about Adrien.”

“Oh, sure. Gimme a sec and we’ll go.”

 

Nino had confronted Adrien about his attitude towards Lila and Chloé, Chloé in particular since the incident in homeroom. Adrien hadn’t taken it well.

“I know his dad is like, totally nuts, and he’s childhood friends with Chloé, but holy shit, I thought he knew Chloé was a garbage person. And he keeps going on about how Lila’s basically misunderstood and wasn’t really hurting anyone with her lies and how we shouldn’t have exposed her and I’m like, bro, you’ve got to be _kidding_ me. He really has no idea why this is messed up?”

“Give up on him, then,” Marinette said automatically. Nino did a double-take. “I mean, you could do as he would, and just let things go. Or you can keep trying to show him why it’s wrong. Try to give him the chance to see your side, and if he refuses, well… You made an effort. Some people just can’t be convinced in the moment.”

“Yeah, but…” Nino let his head hit the table and groaned into the cloth. “He’s my friend, and it still kinda sucks to see that.”

“I know,” she said.

Nino lifted his head. His glasses were slightly askew. “Are you still into him?”

Marinette hummed noncommittally and took a lengthy sip of her milkshake. Nino assumed correctly.

“Does it hurt for you?” he asked, straightening and adjusting his glasses. “I mean, you liked him for a while, right?”

She eyed him. Emotions were inhibiting, to feel distraught over something that was logically the best choice. Perhaps if she still cared, then she’d feel just as sad leaving her parents vulnerable.

“I guess,” she said. “I feel more angry at myself, though. Like I should have seen it coming. Like, why did I fall for someone like that?”

Nino didn’t respond, and took a sip of his smoothie.

“Maybe he’ll come around eventually, though,” she added. “People change. For the better, even.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Nino said, picking up the straw and stirring his drink. He didn’t feel it, though.

“Alya doesn’t believe you defended Lila because you like her, right?”

Nino snorted. “I was gonna ask you if you knew, to be honest. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not today, no. I was away for lunch.” Cross-referencing Agreste’s security system. “I’m sure she knows you were just telling off Chloé. You handled it well, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Lila thanked me at lunch. It was awkward, but, y’know…”

She didn’t, but what did it matter?

“Hey, um,” Nino brimmed with worry. “I know I’ve asked this before but, are you really okay?”

Her lips tugged into a warm smile.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Her eyes gleamed. “I’m fine.”

“Nothing, it’s just,” Nino shrugged. “Since Lila came back, it feels like something’s been off.”

“With me?”

“Nah. Sorta. Well,” he looked down at the remains of his smoothie. “You, me, Alya, Adrien. It feels like something’s different. Alya’s upset, Adrien’s upset, you’re…” he trailed off.

Marinette reached over and touched Nino’s hand. He looked up.

“How do you feel?” she prompted. Nino returned the hold.

“I… feel like I’m missing something.” he said quietly. “First you and Alya had that fight, then Adrien did… that. I feel like something happened and I just completely missed it. I don’t really get why we’re all upset with each other. I don’t get why Adrien is excusing Lila and Chloé, I don’t get why Alya’s upset with me defending Lila, and…” his brows furrowed. “I’m really confused by you.”

She squeezed his hand, and pulled back.

“Well, in order, Adrien is… Chloé is his first friend, and he’s really too forgiving for his own good sometimes. I don’t think he knows that people have to earn forgiveness first, or that people can just do bad things for good reasons and that doesn’t excuse what they’ve done. As for Alya,” Marinette’s eyes shut.

Would she ever say such a thing, were she not akumatised? No, she wouldn’t.

“I think Alya just took Chloé's accusation of you having a crush on Lila a bit too seriously. She’ll be fine. Give her some time.”

Nino nodded slowly, and regarded her carefully.

“And you?”

Marinette smiled sheepishly.

“Well, why _am_ I confusing you?”

“Because you haven’t said anything since Lila got exposed,” he said. Her brows drew together. “I thought when I defended her you might jump in, but it didn’t look like you even cared about it.”

Her face fell.

“I’m sorry, Nino. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, there.” She fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth. “I was thinking about what you told me yesterday, about how our college let Chloé walk all over everyone, and I just sort of zoned out this morning. It was just Chloé doing her usual thing, and I wasn’t paying attention. It wasn’t to get revenge against you or Lila. I swear. It was my fault for being a bystander.”

Nino’s guilt dripped off his shoulders. His doubt retreated.

“Don’t apologise,” he said, leaning back into his seat. “It’s all right. I wasn’t blaming you or anything. I’ve just been… overthinking some things lately.”

Marinette chuckled softly.

“You’re really sweet, Nino.” she said with a smile. “It’s not your job to worry about everyone else, though. We’ll be fine. Things’ll go back to normal very soon, you’ll see.”

She glanced at the clock hanging on the cafe wall, and picked up her bag.

“I have to go, now, I’ll see you Monday?” she prompted.

“Oh,” Nino stood. “Yeah, want me to walk you home?”

Marinette shook her head, and leaned over to give him a hug. She didn’t even feel him.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, meeting his eyes with a cheerful grin. “See you later.”

Nino hesitated, but then smiled back and said, “See you, Marinette.”

And he let her go.

 

Adrien would still be away on a photoshoot, housekeeping wouldn’t show up on Fridays, and Nathalie would be off at the head office dealing with paperwork, leaving Gabriel the only person left in the Agreste mansion.

Unfortunately, something must have been off with the schedules she’d put together, for she walked up to the gates and felt not a soul in sight. Bummer.

She evaded the security systems and snuck in through Adrien’s washroom window. A week ago she might have been embarrassed to pass through his bedroom without his knowledge, but now it was nothing more than another room.

The Agreste estate took up an entire city block on its own, and with no one home it was even quieter than Fu’s apartment. Marinette halted by the staircase leading down to the foyer. She closed her eyes.

No one was there, but she felt a faint drone of _something_. Not thoughts, nor feelings, but something tangibly present and alive.

Marinette’s eyes opened. There. Several floors down, inside the building. The basement, perhaps?

She made several rounds through the mansion, but there wasn’t a single path towards the odd presence. If she had her yo-yo, she could have looked up the building plans. Agreste must have some sort of secret passageway somewhere, somewhere she couldn’t yet find.

Marinette backtracked to the wine cellar, the closest she’d gotten to the mysterious source. She closed her eyes, and focused.

“What are you?” she asked the mansion. “What are you hiding here?”

It wasn’t a person, these weren’t thoughts akin to someone who was just too far away to hear distinctly. It wasn’t even the murmuring of a person asleep. It sounded like a dull, continuous white noise, with no exact words or thoughts, but very much so _there_ and present.

She pulled back. There was no way to get to it right now. Maybe she could find a clue somewhere else.

At the least, with the mansion empty of humans, she had free reign to explore.

Marinette headed straight for Agreste’s office. The portrait was exactly where a sentimental supervillain would hide something integral to his plans. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves, then felt along the frame. It wasn’t hung onto the wall.

It swung open like a door, revealing a safe. Passcode locked.

That was a start.

She eyed the number pad. If she were a sentimental supervillain, what code would she use? A loved one’s birthday, perhaps? But there was no time to guess permutations, especially not if the safe had a limited number of tries before self-destructing or whatever scheme rich supervillains did.

Marinette stepped back and opened her jacket to pull out a container of blush and a makeup brush.

She dusted the keypad. Fingerprints appeared.

0, 1, and 9.

She pocketed the blush and peered at the numbers. It had to be at least a four-digit passcode, meaning at least one of the numbers would repeat. Adrien’s birthday was October 11th, 2000, so that wouldn’t add up, but Emilie Agreste’s was…

1-9-0-1.

The safe door swung open. Marinette’s lips quirked. She fished out some hand wipes and cleaned off the keypad.

January 19th, 1979.

Inside was the spellbook she’d gotten from Adrien, a faded receipt, a picture of Emilie, and—

Marinette held the Peacock brooch in her palm. Suddenly, the events of Heroes’ Day made sense. Had it been Nathalie who transformed with it? That would explain a lot.

She pocketed it, and focused on the rest of the safe. The spellbook was nothing new, and the receipt was almost too old to read. She flipped it, and on the back was scrawled: NEXT TIME, SKIP BAGGAGE CHECK.

Clearly some sort of inside joke between the Agreste couple. She set it aside and picked up the picture frame. There was nothing peculiar about it, either, but she picked at the clasp on the back and pulled out the photo. Nothing was written on the back, this time.

Marinette opened the frame to put the photo back. There had been something written on the inside of the frame’s backing.

A series of numbers, ranging from one through six, written in a strange curving sequence, like a hilltop cresting up then down. There was an empty space between three and four, where the hill would have reached its peak.

She frowned at the hint, then held the photo and its frame side-by-side. They sort of lined up with Emilie’s shoulders, but it wasn’t quite right.

A lightbulb went off.

Marinette shut the safe door, then the portrait. The numbers didn’t line up with the photo of Emilie, but they did match the composition of the painting.

Jeez. Rich, eccentric, sentimental supervillains had very _weird_ setups.

She returned the photo to its frame and reopened the safe to put it back, before turning her attention to the painting. She was way too short to reach the painting Emilie’s shoulders.

Damn Agreste and his freakishly tall stature.

 

After stealing a non-rolling chair from the dining room, Marinette stood on top of it and examined the canvas. There, right above where Emilie’s shoulders connected to her arms, the fabric had frayed slightly in segments, as though someone had cut them out and pieced them back together after—

Her fingers sunk into the snippets of fabric.

—after someone placed buttons beneath them.

Marinette’s lips quirked in success. The floor whirred, and she looked down to see a portion of the floor had opened up into a secret trapdoor.

Aha.

She hopped off the chair and snuck down the passageway.

By the time she hit the bottom of the steps, the opening slid shut, leaving her in complete darkness. Maybe there were lights she was supposed to turn on somewhere.

Marinette felt at the walls. They were far apart that she couldn’t touch both sides with her arms spread out, and the ceiling was definitely too tall to reach. Did Agreste ever get creeped out by how empty the corridor was? Probably not. Minimalism seemed to be his aesthetic.

She continued along the corridor, until the toe of her boots hit a step and she ascended into a light-less room.

It was still too dark to see, but she knew she was no longer alone.

This was not the source of the droning presence, but she knew them well. They were just like her, after all.

Abused for their capabilities, tormented into something new and broken, until someone came to free them.

Marinette sunk to her knees, and they came to life. Their wings beat into bright white light, and lit up their prison. Magic shone off their bodies, and glistened into the darkness.

“Hello, little butterflies,” their saviour greeted, blue eyes gleaming in their radiance. “Do you think you could help me?”

Brilliant wings blinded in an ever resounding confirmation.

 

They followed her through the secret passageway, lighting her path until they hit the trap door. With their aid, she could see a switch to hit, and they surfaced in Agreste’s office.

The butterflies clung to her, fluttering around her shoulders, only too happy to meet the one who was meant to save them. They chattered in a chorus of feelings, soft and distinct, but not restrained to poorly worded thoughts like the humans she’d heard.

“Do you hear that mind?” she asked, as she guided them to the wine cellar. “Do you know how I can reach it?”

They didn’t, but three of the butterflies phased through the wall. The remaining ones relayed their findings.

There was a huge space beneath the mansion, even further down than the Papillon’s lair, and it held a slumbering human. Something must have happened to them, since they didn’t have the same thoughts as someone who was just sleeping.

The butterflies resurfaced and tried to drag her through the wall. She giggled, and pulled away.

“No, I’m not exactly like you, I’m afraid,” she said softly. “I’ll have to find the proper way in.”

They were petulant, but accepted her refusal, and zipped back through the wall in search of the human path.

“Maybe there’s a secret passageway elsewhere,” theorised Marinette. “Like the one I found you guys in.”

The remaining kaleidoscope of butterflies agreed to split up and track down something fishy with the walls of the mansion. With so many of them, it wouldn’t take as long as Marinette hunting the place down herself.

Marinette paused for a moment. They noticed.

“Sorry, it’s just…” she touched at her chest. “Thank you, for helping me.”

They flocked to her and floated around her, flapping their wings gleefully as though to say, “you helped us first, of course we’ll help you too.”

The kaleidoscope dispersed to the ends of the mansion, and the hallway wavered before Marinette’s eyes.

A single lone blur of light hovered into view, and she brushed at her eyes.

“Oh,” she said, as her hand came away with tears. “I’m crying. I didn’t think I could still do that.”

The remaining butterfly hugged at her cheek, and Marinette relished in the familiar gesture.

“Thank you for worrying about me,” she said softly. “It means a lot.”

She was like them, the butterfly reminded. They would look after a friend.

In the big, lonely mansion, without another conscious soul, Marinette felt the slightest of feeling flicker to life.

 

There had been a fake book in the library, the butterflies determined proudly. It opened up a secret staircase leading far down into the depths of the mansion. It wasn’t recently built, either, it had been there for ages. Every step felt earthy and rustic. How long had the mansion been here?

The butterflies guided her down the steps, until she reached the entrance to the secret hall. It was huge beyond description, and Marinette knew that if she spoke, her voice would echo. On the far wall was the emblem of a butterfly. It was cracking and decaying from age. This wasn’t just Agreste being a lunatic, then.

Marinette sucked in an audible breath, as she took in the only pristine feature of the hall. Contrasting the rest of the room was a clinically clean glass coffin, propped up at an angle like a trophy, and inside, a sleeping Emilie Agreste.

Here was the source of the unspeaking mind.

She was comatose, not merely asleep or unconscious. It was magically-induced, the butterflies gathered. A magic familiar to them, familiar to her.

Marinette dug out the Peacock Miraculous, and the butterflies nodded furiously. That was the magic that had cursed her, and the other human.

“Nathalie?” she spoke aloud. The name hung in the air before fading away.

Yes, they said, she had used the Law of Imagination against the Champion’s demands, and the ancient god struck her down for her impudence.

“The Peacock kwami?” Marinette whispered.

Yes, yes. Imagination was drenched in blood and sin, and refused every Champion. Those who disobey him will be drained of their very life, until they are nothing but a shell.

“So there are still things I don’t understand,” she said, peering into the glass coffin. “This is why Agreste wants the Miraculous. He hasn’t failed to move on from her disappearance, he knows there’s still a way to save her.”

Humans and their attachments, their inability to let go.

“Let go,” she whispered, pulling away from the display. “We just can’t let go.”

The butterflies flitted around her curiously. Marinette clenched her fists. A feeling seized her chest, one she had grown very accustomed to in the past few days. For just a moment, it slipped.

“I’ve let go,” she told the hall. “I let go of everything for Ladybug’s sake, for everyone else’s sake. I let things be, I let other people win, I let everyone else live on happily even if it hurts me because I can’t ever not **let _go_**.”

The kaleidoscope froze, and Marinette dropped to her knees. Heavy, angry tears came, and she heaved for breath. She slammed her fist against the smooth ground.

“I let people walk all over me, I let my feelings get hurt and I apologised to people I shouldn’t have and I forgave people who didn’t deserve it and there are people in this world who dare cause so much misery and suffering just because they themselves _can’t **let go**_?!

“He could have just _asked_ for help and Fu would have noticed and helped him but he instead chose to make the rest of the world _suffer his pain_ because he couldn’t accept this loss? **This** is what he ruined a city for and **this** is what everyone has been traumatised for?

“This city is so _selfish_ and _demanding_ and _cruel_ and yet-- and yet--”

She folded herself up on the floor and for the first time in a while, _screamed_. Marinette screamed and wailed and cried and beat her fists against the ground until all that was left of her was a sobbing, tearful mess. Gabriel Agreste had caused so much harm because he wouldn’t let go of his grief, had been so selfish and manipulative, all the while she struggled to restrain her true feelings to avoid pushing other people into his path.

It wasn’t _fair_.

Marinette had tried so hard to do right, to avoid hurting others, because she would never want them to hurt the way she did, yet a man like Gabriel Agreste felt so entitled to his own peace he cursed everyone else to suffer with him, to spread his own hatred and resentment all over Paris until he could finally be at ease.

The butterflies covered her trembling frame, protecting her in a blanket of light, and she finally understood what it meant to be akumatised.

It was to hate, to despair, to resent, to wish ill upon everyone around you, to believe that the only way to rid of the hollow abyss inside was to make everyone else suffer and feel your agony.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng could not do that.

Slowly, eventually, she picked her broken body off the dirty floor. Her limbs shook and every breath pained her chest, but stood on her own, the butterflies hovering around her, and she stared up at the ceiling.

“He still cares…” she whispered, a light in her eyes. The butterflies wavered. “He still cares…”

 

Agreste came home an hour later. She felt his rage, and watched as it drew closer and closer towards the lair, until he found her, sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by her friends.

“Did you like my gift?” she asked cordially.

“What _are_ you?” he demanded. In person, his rage flowed in waves. She’d gotten the better of him. Many times. He had had enough of it. “You’re no ordinary akuma victim.”

She smiled, and her friends tittered in mockery. She didn’t even look at him, and only peered at the butterfly resting on her fingers.

“Will it haunt you forever if I don’t tell you?” she taunted, a true smile on her face. “How pathetic do you feel, being bested by a child you meant to exploit?”

His anger was familiar to her. It was all he ever felt. At last, she understood why he was the way he was. Now, she could see why he hated the way he did.

“You are not Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he snarled. “You’re not akumatised, you’re not human—what are you?”

“Heroes exist to defeat villains,” she said, eyes turning to his direction. The butterfly flew off her finger. “By that logic, aren’t I a hero?”

She rose to her feet and faced him. Terror struck through his heart at the sight of her, wafting off of him in the sweetest of scents. It delighted her. Finally, she had the upper hand. She could make him _suffer_ for what he’d done.

She could.

“It ends here, Agreste,” she said cheerfully, clapping her hands together. “No more akumas, no more games, no more threats. I warned you to surrender, and you didn’t take it, but I’ll give you one last chance now—because I’m merciful.”

Anger, desperation, rage, hatred, despair—those negative feelings he fed upon were the only ones he could feel. This world owed him his wife, this world owed him his happiness and his peace, and if that meant he had to inflict his pain upon the rest of humanity then so be it. They owed him _everything_.

“Nooroo, transforme-moi!”

The Papillon had barely unsheathed his sword, when her friends came to her defence. With blinding white wings, they swarmed their former master, and forced him to his knees.

Marinette took slow, gradual steps towards her greatest enemy.

“That’s the difference between us, Gabriel: you still love. You love so much you’ll destroy everything to get it back. Never mind that Adrien is still here, never mind that the rest of the world suffers just like you and doesn’t demand the universe compensate them. You are so attached to your past feelings you will drown in your misery before you accept your fate.”

The butterflies parted to reveal his face, agonised, enraged, and she placed her hand on his cheek in a mimicry of care.

“You named me Misericordia, you wanted for me to spread my despair and loneliness and hatred to all those around me, just like you do, but you were always, _always_ wrong. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want others to suffer the way I have. I just want to move on.”

He struggled to pull away from her touch, but the Butterfly itself had betrayed him.

“I want to accept that things won’t go back to the way they once were. There is no Miraculous Ladybug here to reset my life. There is no magic to one-snap-solve what’s happened and that’s _okay_. Living isn’t easy. Being able to feel _hurts_. But what is the point of living if you can’t ever move past your pain to appreciate the good?”

The human screamed at her, aggrieved and resentful and _don’t you dare think you know how I feel you stupid child you have felt **nothing** the way I have_. She seized his face with both hands and stared into him.

“Tell me, Gabriel Agreste, how much despair do you think Adrien will feel, when he discovers he’s an orphan?”

How much despair will he feel, when he finds out it didn’t have to end that way?

Her fingers grasped the Miraculous, and she released him.

A purple kwami materialised, and stared at her with horror-filled eyes. She took some steps back, beckoning them. They retreated into the brooch without a word.

The butterflies cleared away to their new friend.

Gabriel Agreste remained on the ground, his head bowed towards the floor. He had been defeated, for good.

“Living hurts,” she said. “Feeling hurts. But no one has to go through it alone. Not even you.”

She raised a hand. The butterflies flocked towards it, coalescing and melding together.

“If you turn yourself in, I might be able to save Emilie and Nathalie. If you don’t, I’ll reveal to the world your identity, and all that you’ve done. If you come after me, or anyone else, I will kill you myself."

The light in the room dimmed, until there was only one butterfly left, and the room plunged into darkness.

“You have until dawn to decide,” she said, and made her way towards the exit.

Agreste collapsed. His fingers scraped against the smooth floor.

“What are you?” he repeated.

She paused. The butterfly beat its wings.

“I’m just Marinette,” she said. “I’m just a normal girl. I’m no one special.”

And she left.

 

She didn’t bother to put on a facade to face Fu. He opened the door with a grave look, and beckoned her in. Wayzz stared at her in abject horror, just like Nooroo had, and couldn’t take his eyes off her winged friend.

“The Peacock Miraculous’ last wielder was murdered long before the Order fell,” explained Fu, returning the two lost Miraculous to the box. “The kwami thus curses anyone else who tries to wield it or use its powers.”

“What will happen to Mme Emilie and Mme Nathalie, now?” she asked. The little butterfly was taking a great interest in the various knick-knacks of Fu’s apartment.

“Duusu is a very merciless kwami,” said Wayzz, his attention split between them and the lone butterfly. “But I’m sure we can convince him to lift the enchantment on both of them.”

“Please do not,” she said bluntly, eyes following her friend, “not unless Agreste turns himself in.”

The two regarded her. Fu’s brows furrowed.

“You are not Marinette, anymore,” he said slowly. “You haven’t been for… a few hours?”

She smiled. Neither of them believed it.

“I compiled evidence of the Papillon’s true identity. Even it isn’t believed, I’m certain that the video of Emilie Agreste’s body being hidden under the mansion would be enough to merit an investigation on her husband. If he turns himself in, he can probably wrangle himself an early retirement in a luxury prison while his wife makes a miraculous recovery. If not, it’s going to take a lot more than a sob story to get himself into a decent jail.”

“And you would gamble with lives to accomplish that?” Fu questioned.

She closed her eyes, “There is no point to threats if the person you’re threatening doesn’t believe you’ll do it. Unless Agreste turns himself in, Emilie will stay comatose forever and Nathalie will eventually join her.”

Fu frowned. “You believe he’ll take that offer?”

“Yes. He’s done awful things, but in the end, he is still very human. He loves his family, and he cares for Nathalie.”

“I suppose you could say, then, that emotions are indeed a necessity?” Fu hummed.

She chuckled drily, but didn’t answer the question.

“We still need to free Tikki, before the Miraculous are all reunited,” she said. “Clearly I have failed to, how did you put it, ‘accept the feelings it came for’. I don’t care if I stay this way, but Tikki ought to be freed, right?”

Fu’s lips pressed together. Wayzz looked alarmed.

“The Miraculous are unbreakable,” he began. “but now that all of the Miraculous are in our possession, there is one way to interrupt the connection between the akuma and your earrings.”

Their eyes fell to the contents of the box.

 

“You know, when I was Ladybug, I loved the Tower. From here, you can see everything, everything I wanted to protect. And everyone is so small from up here. They’re so tiny, but each and every one of them is very important, and very precious to me. That’s what a hero does, right? They protect those who can’t protect themselves, and fight against the villains.”

The singular butterfly beat its wings happily at her. She smiled at it, and stood to her feet.

“Do you hear that, petit papillon?” she asked. The butterfly glanced down at the bottom of the Tower. “The Heroes of Paris are coming.”

She walked back to the centre of the platform and stretched her arms. The butterfly fluttered towards her and nuzzled at her cheek.

“Stay out of this one, okay?” she asked, poking at its head. “I promise you it’ll be over very soon.”

Bright wings fluttered into the sky, until they were indistinct to those who weren’t looking. She let out a breath, and pulled out the locket from inside her shirt.

“It’s almost over, Tikki,” she said, pulling out the akumatised earring. “You’re almost free.”

The locket fell back into her shirt, and she hung the earring through her right lobe.

“Heroes exist to defeat villains. Let’s see if the Heroes of Paris are really heroes without their darling Ladybug.”

Blue eyes glowed bright.

“Akuma, transforme-moi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eheheheh... there's ch4 and then the epilogue :D


	4. it'll be okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Heroes show up to stop their former partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this like eight times because I hated it (and very briefly forgot where I was going with it). There's like literally 15k of rough draft that I scrapped. Thank you Roxy and Ange for dealing with my 3am crying over the many takes on this chapter. I'm still not 100% satisfied with this chapter's quality but I think I might go nuts if I keep trying to work on it so...
> 
> Remember when I told people in the comments like "yeah i think it'll be a shorter chapter because it's just a fight scene" and then i realised i had TOO FUCKING MUCH to wrap up??? yeah. it's 6k again. and I still haven't wrapped up everything I wanted to!
> 
> Oh also, kinda important note here: I reworked a good chunk of Chapter 1, so it might be a good idea to re-read that. I also edited parts of 2 and 3, but otherwise the concepts are still the same and you won't be missing anything if you skip rereading.

Akumatisation was different to transforming into Ladybug. Where Tikki’s magic was a rush of warmth enveloping her body and moving in quick, fluid, controlled strides, the akumatisation rooted her in place with electrifying strikes, roiling wildly through her limbs, desperate and uncertain of how to alter her very self.

The magic fizzled out, and she opened her eyes.

For the first time in her short life, she could see Paris as it truly was.

 

“With both of the Miraculous under Ladybug’s domain in our possession and dormant, activating the Fox, Bee, and Turtle will be enough to tip the Miraculous’ balance in the Cat’s favour. Once you are fully akumatised, Chat Noir will be capable of using Cataclysm on the earring, and free both the akuma and Tikki. Since the Butterfly is no longer active, the liaison will purify itself without its source.”

Fu collected the necessary jewels and began to place them in small familiar boxes. The girl stared at the Miraculous with a pensive expression on her face. The brilliant white butterfly landed on her shoulder, and beat its wings slowly. Her eyebrows narrowed in thought.

“Tell them I’ll be on the Eiffel Tower at midnight,” she said. The old man looked up. She stared at the boxes with a smile on her lips. “Tell them Ladybug has been akumatised. I want to see if they’re still heroes without her.”

Apprehensive disapproval formed on Fu’s face. The girl ignored it.

“I thought you had said you didn’t want to harm anyone,” he said slowly, giving her the chance to correct herself. “You would fight your own friends and partners? Put them in unnecessary danger?”

The girl met his eyes without a hint of regret.

“They are not my friends anymore, and they were never my partners. They weren’t even my equals.” Blue eyes shone with contempt. “Ladybug has helped them this far, but I want to see if they could ever work without her help. But don’t worry, even if they fail, I won’t harm anyone. That’d be pointless, after everything I’ve worked so hard for.”

For the first time since they’d met, Fu seemed angry with her. His jaw set, and every bit of condemnation followed his words.

“I know you have been mislead. You’ve suffered and now the akuma is corrupting your emotions, but Marinette would never do something like this, and I do not trust your word.”

“That Marinette is gone,” the girl said simply. “Ladybug too. I have always been capable of hurting others. We all have that capacity, be it by action or inaction.”

“You’ve had control over your akumatisation up until now,” the old man warned steadily, his eyes uncharacteristically stern. “Even without the Papillon, if you are fully akumatised, I cannot guarantee you will have control over yourself. You might hurt someone, or an innocent, or yourself.”

She smiled softly and chuckled.

“Then let’s hope you choose your heroes well.”

“ **I cannot allow you to do that.** ”

He didn’t shout, didn’t even raise his voice, but his words boomed in the confined space of the apartment, and stabbed through her head in a resounding clap. She betrayed no fear, and simply stood to her feet.

“Well, that’s just the thing, isn’t it?”

She turned towards the door.

“You can’t stop me, either.”

 

They were arguing amongst themselves at the foot of the tower. Unsurprising; they never would get along without her. Their thoughts were unknown, as they were fused with their kwami, but their emotions ran rampant. Fury and frustration with each other covered up their individual fears. They were alone in this battle.

So much for heroes, as blinded as they were, incapable of putting their feelings aside for the safety of others. They were incompetent, every single one of them.

She rose off the ground. They were coming for her, at last, and she would show them their weaknesses.

 

“Took you long enough.”

Chat Noir braced his feet against the ground and felt his colleagues tense up. Queen Bee and Rena Rouge angled themselves so the four of them had their backs covering each other. The voice echoed through the platform, lit up just enough so they could see, but even with his night vision, Ladybug was nowhere to be found.

“Ladybug,” he began. His words were calmer than he felt. “Fu told us what happened. He told us you stopped the Papillon and you got his Miraculous.”

Everyone had predicted this could happen. All of them had been compromised by an akuma, or akumatised themselves, all except Ladybug. It had been their worst case scenario, that their perfect unstoppable heroine fall to the side of villainy.

“But the Papillon’s gone now, you don’t need to do this, and none of us have ever wanted to fight you. You’re our--”

“--friend?”

The voice whispered the end of his sentence, and Chat Noir felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Ladybug sounded disappointed.

He heard an intake of breath, and Rena Rouge broke away from their group.

“Yes, Ladybug, we’re your friends,” she said into the shadows, looking around for a figure or silhouette. “You know us. All of us. We don’t want to fight you.”

Rena Rouge held her arms out in a show of peace.

“Alya Cesaire,” Ladybug said. Chat Noir blinked. “Shouldn’t you of all people know that akuma victims don’t listen to reason?”

Rena Rouge turned her head away from her fellow heroes.

“You’re not an ordinary akuma victim, Ladybug. Chat Noir is right; there’s no need for this. The Papillon isn’t in your head anymore. We can end this peacefully.”

“And if I don’t want to end this peacefully?”

“Then we’ll be forced to fight you.”

Pitched laughter echoed around the platform. Chat Noir dug his heels into the stage.

“Forced? No, you’re all _choosing_ to fight me. It’s always been a choice. Our choice to take the Miraculous and fight. Our choice to be good people and do something. Our choice.”

“Then you can choose not to fight!” Queen Bee yelled at the beams. “You can choose to stand down, Ladybug.”

“Yes, you’re right, Chloé. I choose to fight you. I choose to be Paris’ final akuma. I will be the testament to your validity as heroes. I lead you this far, now it’s up to you to earn Paris’ peace.”

“That’s why you’re doing this, then?” Carapace asked. “To test us?”

Ladybug hummed in agreement. “That’s correct. Let’s set the scene, shall we?”

There was a loud crack in the air, and everyone slammed their hands over their ears, and shut their eyes on instinct. A visible shockwave exploded from the Tower, and spread over the city. The platform’s lights flickered, but stayed lit. The heroes opened their eyes.

The cityscape was an abyss of blackness, not a single building or landscape visible to their eyes. As though everything around the Tower itself had been plunged into darkness, and the moon itself had gone out.

Chat Noir broke from the group and ran for the edge. He leaned over, and his head hit a barrier.

“What have you done, Ladybug?” Rena Rouge was calling out.

He pressed a hand and a visible light formed against the shield. They were trapped.

“Here is your final crisis, Heroes of Paris,” Ladybug said softly, maddeningly calm. “I have stopped time outside of this Tower. Light can’t travel if time doesn’t pass, after all. Everyone outside of here, everyone you can’t see in that darkness, is now frozen, and will remain frozen unless you defeat me.”

“Are you serious?” Chat Noir stalked back towards his team. “You’d really put all of Paris in danger just for this, Ladybug?”

“You of all people don’t get to lecture me, Chat Noir,” the voice snarled, breaking into anger. “How many times have you compromised a mission because you got _your_ feelings hurt? Or is that a luxury I’ve not allowed to have?”

He gritted his teeth. Damn it. She was right. But Ladybug was being completely unreasonable and she didn’t have to either. The Papillon wasn’t pushing her to do this. Akumatised victims didn’t have to do evil if they didn’t want to. Right?

“Ladybug is nice,” Queen Bee frowned at the shadows. “She wouldn’t do this.”

“You’re right, Chloé, Ladybug is nice.”

Chat Noir’s ears twitched.

“But you know what else she is?”

From the corner of his eye, something rustled.

“ **Not here.** ”

“GET DOWN!”

Chat Noir’s body trembled as he hit the metal floor. Something wooshed overhead and he heard someone -- Chloé? -- scream. He rolled, and the same something slammed into the ground beside him. He reached for his baton, only for someone to tackle him back onto the floor.

“Shell-ter!”

The back of his head hit the metal, and for a second everything went dark. Someone lifted his back so he was sitting up, and he blinked rapidly. His vision cleared.

Carapace stood before him, arm raised and his Miraculous shining. Through a green dome, he saw Queen Bee, suspended in the air, a black tendril wrapped around her body.

Heels clicked on the floor, and Ladybug landed in the centre of the platform. Her akumatised form was dressed in fashion many had imagined her in but no one, not even him, had ever truly seen.

Gone was the skintight suit that allowed for quick and versatile combat, in their place a flowing black dress and dark sheer tights. Her pigtails had been let loose, falling around her shoulders. Her arms, covered in elegant black gloves, guided the thick black ribbons of fabric ensnaring her rarest ally.

Behind a black mask, pupiless blue-white eyes gleamed.

“Oh, good job!” she praised with a smile, and for a moment, she almost sounded like Ladybug. “You can think for yourself after all, Nino.”

Carapace didn’t flinch at his real name, but Chat Noir did, and a chill went down his spine. With Rena Rouge’s help, he stood back to his feet. He hadn’t just been fighting alongside his allies, he’d fighting alongside his _friends_.

Queen Bee was screaming against the rounds of ribbon over her mouth, struggling in the air, and Ladybug took slow, daunting steps towards her. The magical ribbon lowered her to the ground, until Ladybug could tilt her head down and pick the Miraculous out of her hair.

The bee kwami materialised, and even from afar, they could see she was shocked at Ladybug’s face, before she returned into the hair comb without another word. Ladybug tossed it aside without another thought, and tapped at the side of the detransformed girl’s head.

The ribbons unfurled and Chat Noir bit his lip as Chloé crumpled to the ground like a puppet cut from strings. She didn’t rise.

Ladybug meandered up to the barrier in slow, confident strides. A smile quirked her lips all too cheerfully for someone who’d knocked out a civilian.

“It’ll be five minutes before Nino transforms back and this shield falls,” she said, a few feet away from the wall. “So, I’ll just monologue about my weaknesses to tell you how to defeat me.”

She spread her arms out.

“I have one ribbon I control, see?” She parted her hair so the heroes could see a single black ribbon wrapped around her neck like a collar, and threaded through each of her sleeves until they peeked out from her wrists. “They cannot be cut, not that any of you have any sharp weapons anyway. However, besides them, I’m unarmed. This dress is too heavy to fight in, so if you figure out how to either get this ribbon off my person, or get to my earring here without getting tangled in it, I’m a sitting duck.”

“So you want to lose,” Carapace said, taking a few steps back towards his allies.

“Yes. I want you to have every possible opportunity to win besides me literally handing this victory over to you.”

“Then why do this at all?”

“I told you, I want you to defeat an akuma without my help. I want you to prove me wrong.”

“About what?” Chat Noir spoke.

Ladybug didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes on the other two heroes.

“Wrong about my choices.”

She turned away and took a few contemplative paces as she elaborated.

“I chose Alya and Nino not just because it was convenient in those attacks, but because I was biased. I believed in them and trusted them. And I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“You’ve lost faith in us?” Rena Rouge came to Carapace’s side. “Why?”

Ladybug stopped, but didn’t look back.

“Because you’re all incapable of putting others first. You’re too focused on yourselves to act selflessly. You’re still willing to either incite despair or refuse to alleviate it. Queen Bee was not my doing, but you two I will take responsibility for.”

“‘Responsibility’?” Rena Rouge echoed. “Are you hearing yourself? What did we even do wrong? What did we--” She took a step back. “You _do_ go to our school.”

Blue-white eyes peered over Ladybug’s shoulder.

“Yes.”

“You… know Marinette, then.”

“I did, yes.”

“So this is about Lila.”

Ladybug laughed. It rang out across the platform. She spun on her heel and her dress flared with her eyes.

“ **No.** ” she hissed, and her eyes flashed white before dimming. Her lips pulled in a glaring scowl. “But it’s rather telling how you didn’t believe Marinette’s word. Weren’t the two of you best friends? I even gave you an interview as a favour to her. Yet you didn’t believe either of us.”

“Look it’s,” Rena Rouge jerked her head in disagreement, “It’s a lot more complicated than that. I was a total idiot and Marinette has… Marinette forgave me and I got Lila to tell everyone the truth!”

“Maybe so, but how I can trust someone with judgment as bad as yours, Alya Cesaire?” Ladybug clicked her tongue. “I won’t have to ever again, if you prove you’re at least tactically competent.”

“And me?” Carapace tugged Rena Rouge behind him. “You’re mad at Queen Bee because you didn’t choose her, you’re mad at Rena Rouge because she fought with Marinette, so you’re mad at me for letting it happen?”

Ladybug tilted her head.

“Yes. Effectively.”

“And Chat Noir?”

Blue-white eyes landed on green. Ladybug shook her head again in disappointment.

“Personal things, I suppose, but roughly the same reason. You are all incapable of putting others first. Chat Noir is most obvious to me, but I didn’t realise it at all until now.”

The akuma took some steps back and gave a heavy sigh.

“Fu says he chose sending out the Ladybug over just sending out the Turtle because the Ladybug can undo all of the akuma’s damage, while the Turtle can only purify it. The Ladybug and Cat are paired together, and can’t be used without the other. I don’t care what his reasoning is, because I was just happy I wouldn’t have to do this alone.”

She met Chat Noir’s gaze, and walked towards the barrier. Chat Noir found himself mirroring her. They stopped, a foot away from each other, panes of magic separating them, and it felt rather familiar.

“You have no idea how scared I was, Chat. I would have hated to upset you, to risk losing you, because you were the only one who’d been by my side since the very beginning, and you were the first one who told me I was needed when no one else wanted our help. And for that I ignored everything you did to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were akumatised?” he asked.

Ladybug scoffed, and smiled humorlessly at him.

“Why should I trust you, Chat Noir? Why should I have ever trusted you? How many times did I tell you I didn’t love you like that and how many times did you ignore my wishes? If I can’t even trust you to know that I meant my rejection, then why on earth should I trust you at the lowest point of my life since the Papillon first appeared?”

He recoiled, and looked aside.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I imagine you are.”

“I really, really am, Ladybug. You’re right.” He met her eyes. “I betrayed your trust. We all did. You were kind, really kind, and we pushed that too far.”

Ladybug stared at him, wordless. He raised his left hand, and pressed it against the shield. She did the same with her right.

“I am so, so sorry, Ladybug,” he repeated, leaning his forehead to the barrier. “Forgive us.”

Eyes held each other. Ladybug blinked, and for a second Chat Noir swore they turned blue.

“I…” Her eyes squeezed shut. “I--”

The shield gave way.

Chat Noir threw his entire weight onto her, and shoved her to the ground. He grabbed her hand and turned her head so the darkened earring was exposed.

“Cataclysm!”

 

For a second, she thought he’d missed, for an overwhelming pain seized her she gave a ear-splitting screech. Yet, instead of her body crumbling into dust, the earring gave way and the akuma broke free.

Chat Noir backed off of her, alarmed by her yelling, but it still _hurt_ and she rolled onto her side and curled into herself.

Why did it hurt so much? Was this the punishment for going so astray? Hurting all of those people, manipulating all of her friends, being so merciless and cruel to Agreste, tricking her partners into feeling despair and hopelessness?

Had she really fallen so far? Turned into the very person she would have despised? Was this her folly, for daring to fight her pain?

No.

The pain ebbed, slowly, gradually, until the only pain that remained was the heaving of her chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and yet in the darkness, a light came to life. One, then many others.

She opened her eyes, and met with the flock of white butterflies, shielding her and protecting her and refusing her deprecating spiral.

She was wrong. It wasn’t her fault. She had been isolated and lonely and lead to believe that selflessness was her duty and hers alone. It festered and consumed her until all that was left was despair and suffering and resentment.

No. Showing pain was not the problem. Fighting against those who hurt her was not the problem. Feeling was not the problem.

_It’s okay to feel sad. That’s how you know something’s not right._

Marinette Dupain-Cheng sat up, and felt at the locket. She pried the hinge open, and a pink sphere materialised before her. It hovered, and dissipated, revealing a tiny red creature.

“Hey, Tikki,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“Oh, Marinette…” Tears welled in the kwami’s eyes. “You were just in time.”

 

They were all fools.

Marinette whispered to the Ladybug kwami, smiling with tears in her eyes. The butterflies spun around them, wings flapping in eager joy, before flocking and melding together onto her shoulder, until only remained. The girl hugged the kwami to her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she said to her, “I’m so sorry, Tikki.”

“You did what you thought was right, Marinette,” the kwami said back. “You tried what you could in the moment. I’m so proud of you.”

Marinette wiped at her tears and hiccoughed, then flinched and looked up to their audience.

None of them, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge, or Nino, could find the words to speak. Marinette swallowed, and got to her feet. The butterfly’s wings twitched, and Marinette whispered inaudibly to it.

She turned towards Chloé, the girl still and immobile some feet away. She knelt down, as Tikki split and retrieved the abandoned Bee Miraculous. The Turtle kwami joined her, slipping past the humans.

“She’s fine,” Marinette called out to the shocked trio. “She’s just asleep. I’ll take her back to the hotel. You three can meet me at Fu’s after Wayzz and Plagg rest up. Wayzz will tell you the location.”

“It’s nice to see you back, Tikki.” Wayzz said to his counterpart.

“I’m glad to be back,” she chirped.

Rena Rouge found her voice first of the three of them.

“It’s you,” she choked out. “Oh my god, it was you.”

“Yeah,” Marinette got to her feet and faced them. She gave a hesitant smile, and none of them understood how they didn’t notice sooner. “It’s me.”

The heroine moved towards her, and Marinette held up her hands. Rena Rouge stopped.

“I’m sorry,” said Marinette, the same way she always said it, the same way they knew she said it. “I’d really like to get to Fu’s first, if you don’t mind. Tikki?”

The kwami zipped towards her and beamed.

“You know the words, Marinette.”

Marinette smiled, and it was exactly like Ladybug’s.

Ladybug hooked Chloé into her arms and leapt off the Tower, just as Chat Noir’s ring beeped and green sparks flew off his body.

“Have all of my friends been secret superheroes without me knowing?” Nino demanded to no one in particular.

“If it makes you feel better,” Adrien stalled, “I didn’t know about any of you three.”

“That doesn’t help.”

 

Chloé hadn’t stirred at all on the way to the hotel, thankfully. Ladybug shut the glass door behind her and made her way to the edge of the roof. Paris was quiet, as usual, nothing but the faint sounds of traffic, and the dull murmur of sleeping thoughts.

A white butterfly met her at the precipice. Ladybug let out a breath.

“I can still hear everything,” she recounted, hopping onto the ledge. “It’s easier. Like I have more control over it. Is that how it’s supposed to be?”

She was like them, communicating in things that weren’t quite words, weren’t quite feelings, weren’t quite thoughts. There used to be many like her, but they died some time ago. The Champion of Memory could explain. He knew the situation well.

An understanding settled into her heart. More things she hadn’t known about.

“I hurt a lot of people these past few days,” she said quietly. “Especially today.”

They’d know she wasn’t herself. They understood hatred and magic could warp one’s intentions. They wouldn’t hold it against her. If they did, then they didn’t know well enough.

“But I meant everything I said,” her voice cracked. “Everything.”

Humans can be cruel, all humans have sordid thoughts, but they built barriers to be kind, because kindness is a choice. And sometimes, those barriers fail. Sometimes, they turn into prisons.

You suffer to know it’s not right. You shouldn’t suffer to keep other people happy.

Ladybug breathed in slowly.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, pressing her hands against her eyes. She crouched over the edge. “But I manipulated them, all of them. That thing on the Tower, freezing Paris in time, it wasn’t--”

Easy, easy.

One thing at a time.

Go to Fu.

She raised her head. The butterfly shimmered.

“One thing at a time,” she said to them. “One thing at a time.”

 

Fu’s apartment was quiet with sleep, but she could feel her friends as she climbed the steps and crossed the hallway. They were exhausted now. Alya and Nino might have been night owls, but the adrenaline took a lot out of you. One person was doing just fine, though a little shell-shocked. Chat Noir must have transformed back.

‘Do you think I’ll like him?’

Did she like Chat Noir?

Her lips pursed, and she decided not to linger on it. It was what it was. She didn’t care who Chat Noir really was. He’d shown himself to her, already, and like Alya and Nino, she just wanted to move on now.

She pushed open the door. Fu was sitting at a table, the Miraculous box open before him. Across from him were the detransformed heroes. The three turned to see her, and Marinette met green.

“Oh,” she said quietly, a dull surprise dropping in her stomach. “That makes sense.”

Tikki burst from her jacket and zipped past Adrien towards Fu. The butterfly tittered around her shoulder, as she closed the door behind her. She walked around her friends to set the Bee Miraculous into the box.

“I’m happy to see you kept your word after all, Marinette,” Fu said calmly. She moved to his side of the table, and knelt to his level.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, bowing her head. How many more apologies were to be given? “You were trying to help me and I--”

Fu leaned over, and his trembling hands rested over her shoulders, pulling her close. Relief spilled from him, and Marinette returned the hug.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he rasped. “I’m so sorry I put you on this path.”

“You made the right choice,” she reminded him. You saved my life. “And I made my choice to do good.”

He pulled away, tears in his eyes, and Marinette smiled.

“It’s over now,” she said to him, and to her peers. “The Miraculous are all together now, the Papillon will be turning himself in by the afternoon, and everyone is…” she breathed out. “Everything is okay.”

The butterfly settled onto her shoulder.

“So,” Alya began, “everything you said while you were akumatised… Was it…?”

Marinette let out a soft laugh, and her head fell forwards. She made to speak, but Fu intervened.

“The rule about magic that relies on emotion,” he began, drawing their eyes, “is that it borrows from what is already there. However, it is very easy for that emotion to fester and grow into something it never would have if magic hadn’t been involved. The reverse is also true. Kindness and compassion that would have normally kept you from hating so much is buried by negativity.”

Tikki picked up the explanation.

“Marinette may have meant some level of her resentment, but it is ultimately the lack of resolution regarding it, and the akumatisation targeting it, that lead to what she told you. That is why most akumatised victims are as violent and extreme as they are, they have all the negative emotion and no logic or compassion to keep themselves from acting on it.”

Was that true? Or were they simply covering for her failures?

It’s true, the butterfly told her. You are not the first.

She met her friends eyes. No judgement, no resentment of their own, they’d been worried for her, angry with her because she was acting so strangely, so cruelly.

Would they change what they felt, if she told them the truth?

“I was lying,” she said at last. “About the threat to Paris.” She shut her eyes, and couldn’t bring herself to stop seeking their reactions. “I was frustrated, and upset, and I wanted to make you feel how I felt every time I had to purify an akuma on my own. I was resentful and I took it out on you because you were all allowed to make mistakes fighting akumas, so long as I was there to purify it. I tricked you, and…”

She clenched her jaw, and opened her eyes. She stared into her lap.

“I can’t say I’m sorry.”

Surprise. Confusion. Hesitation.

“I want to. I really want to, but I can’t apologise for what I felt. I’m sorry I tricked you, I’m sorry I fought you, but I’m not sorry that I felt all of those things. If I hadn’t been akumatised, I would have liked to talk it out with you, I would have liked not to have manipulated you, but I will not beg your forgiveness because I was sad.”

She bit her lip and met their eyes. Her vision wavered.

“I forgive you for tricking us.”

Marinette’s hands clenched in her lap. A tear hit the back of her palm.

Alya...

“And I don’t think any of us, or well, me really, would hold it against you for what you felt,” the girl sucked in a breath. “I shouldn’t have ignored your feelings, Marinette. You felt hurt, and I never took it seriously. That’s on me, and I’m so sorry.”

She meant it.

Marinette breathed in, and it came out as a sniffle. Her shoulders shook.

“I agree.”

She bit her lip. The tears wouldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry, I should have noticed, Marinette,” Nino said. “I should have--”

“I didn’t want you to,” she let out a choked laugh, and wiped at her eyes. She couldn’t meet their faces, but she felt their hearts breaking. “I didn’t want you to notice.”

“I know,” he said. “But I still should have pressed.”

Her arms gave way and she ducked her head into her hands, her elbows pressing into her knees.

“I don’t… _blame_ any of you!” she hiccoughed. Her hands were wet with tears and they just wouldn’t stop. “I don’t want you to feel bad over me, either!”

“Oh, Marinette…”

Alya rose to hug her, and Marinette straightened enough to nod her head in consent, and the girl’s arms wrapped around her shoulders. Nino followed, hands pressing at her back, comforting and present.

And Adrien…

Through the tangle of arms, Marinette opened her eyes and met his. He was frozen in place, heart beating in his ears, uncertain of how to act. But his feelings…

“I forgive you, Marinette,” he said quietly. “And I thank you, for everything you’ve done for us.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered, and she shut her eyes again.

And for the first time in her life, Marinette let herself cry into her friends’ arms.

 

“Bordel de merde--”

The man slammed the bottle of champagne onto the dining table, and glared at the girl sitting on to the other end. She gave him a pleasantly cheerful smile in response, as though she hadn’t broken into his house without warning.

“Shouldn’t your parents be keeping an eye on you this early in the morning?”

“Shouldn’t you not be drinking at 6am?” she returned calmly. The man turned on another light. She had bags under her eyes. “I told my parents I was staying over at a friend’s place last night.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

The girl’s eyebrows quirked and she tilted your head. He maintained a steady glare. Her eyebrows rose and she gave a shrug.

“I had a lot of things on my mind,” she said at last, picking at the side of the table. “Lots of late-night heart-to-hearts with my friends, after all.”

“You’re here to ask me if I’m going to turn myself in or not.”

“Yep,” she said monotonously. “I’m certain I can save Mme Agreste, and Mme Nathalie. But I won’t do that unless you willingly turn yourself in to the authorities.”

“You seem different,” he said, popping the bottle open. “Did something happen?”

“Would it change your decision if I told you?”

He stared at her thoughtfully.

“Perhaps,” he said, “if I knew we were more similar than I originally thought, I’d feel more inclined to trust your word.”

Marinette met his eyes. She lifted her hair, revealing pierced earlobes. No earrings in sight.

“I see. So you allowed yourself to be purified after all,” he said.

“It only changes some things,” she said sullenly. “I still remember everything I did. I know exactly how I felt while I was doing it. And,” she let out a sigh, “for the most part, I still meant everything in I said.”

“So you’ll still kill me if I try and retaliate.”

“Would you?”

He poured the contents into a glass, biding his time.

“Someone told me,” she said, straightening in the seat, “that akumatic energy can make existing negative feelings worse, and leech away at what logic and compassion you have left, until you’re doing things you never would have imagined yourself doing.”

He set the bottle aside, and picked up the glass, but didn’t drink it.

“I was only akumatised for a few days, and granted, I was in a pretty shitty and high-stakes situation from the start, but, I felt a lot of regret and anguish when I could finally think freely.”

He didn’t acknowledge her.

“So I just wonder, considering the source of that akuma, and it being almost an entire year since the Papillon first showed up,” Marinette let out the softest of laughs, “how much pain are you in right now, Monsieur Agreste?”

The glass hit the table hard, but the girl didn’t flinch. Agreste turned away from her and breathed audibly. Familiar emotions radiated from him, all tinged with something new.

“I’m not gonna pretend you’re an innocent, Agreste,” said Marinette. “If someone said they’d bring back your wife at the cost of someone else’s life you’d probably have taken that too. I mean you started your first attack by targeting an angry teenager and that ended with a literal body count and you kept going anyway.”

“What do you want to hear from me, then?” he demanded, turning to glare at her. “That I do regret my actions?”

“I already know what you regret,” she said, “and I literally couldn’t care less. I just want to help people. I want them to know that the man who tormented their city for months, who made them fear not only for their lives but the privacy and safety of their emotions, who made people fear fearing itself, that that man will be behind bars and never _ever_ hurt them again.

“And if that requires condemning a woman who aided you in your terrorism, then I’ll make that choice. If that means Adrien will hate me forever, if that means sacrificing futures, then I’ll make that choice. I’m not going to let a terrorist go just to spare the feelings of the few people left on this planet who still care for Gabriel Agreste.”

Her statement hung in the air with a finality to it, and Agreste bowed his head in assent. He chuckled.

“Perhaps, in a different setting, I think we would have gotten along very well, Marinette,” he said. “But I suppose you wouldn’t be here if the Papillon didn’t exist.” He met her eyes. “Am I wrong, Ladybug?”

Marinette smiled, and shook her head.

“Did it really take you this long, though?”

“There is a lot you can miss when you’re focused only on revenge.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

“Are you going to kill me if I do?”

Marinette covered her laugh with her hand.

“You tried to kill me when I found out about you, right? Only fair to repay the favour, then.”

Gabriel hummed noncommittally. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Perhaps in this different world, we could have been allies.”

“Yeah,” said Marinette, as Gabriel tapped in numbers. “Perhaps.”

 

The sun rose over the horizon, illuminating the streets of Paris in a hazy orange-blue. The day had already started, and civilians were moving about on the roads and sidewalks. They buzzed with noise and thoughts and feelings, and walking towards a familiar sign, Marinette didn’t have to hear any of it at all.

“I still think it’s too early,” she murmured to herself. “They’ll be opening the bakery and I don’t want to--”

“Marinette,” Tikki said sternly from her jacket. “You don’t have to tell them everything, but you really need to rest now. You’ve been awake for too long.”

She pressed her mouth together and sighed. She stopped at the bakery windows and peered inside. Her father was setting up, his back to her. Marinette rushed past the storefront and hopped up the steps to the residence.

Her mother met her in the kitchen. She set down the unsorted cutlery by the dining table.

“Marinette?” she blinked in confusion. “What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day with Alya after your sleepover?”

“Yeah, um…” Marinette began. She looked away. The television was quietly broadcasting the weather. “There was uh, a change of plans, she had a thing going on, so I came back since it wasn’t too far, and…”

Her eyes stung with foreboding tears, and her mother approached her, her face brimming with worry. Marinette bit her lip, and flung herself into her mother’s arms. Her mother hugged her back, and a hand came up to brush through her daughter’s hair.

“Did something happen, sweetheart?” her mother voice emitted all the care and worry she felt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she sniffled. “I think… I think I just need a hug right now.”

Her mother’s hand fell to wrap around her shoulders.

“Of course, darling,” she said softly, “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay, Marinette.”

Her eyes watered again, and Marinette pressed her face into mother’s shoulder.

Behind them both, the television screen transitioned into a breaking news reel.

“We interrupt our scheduled segment with breaking news. Fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste revealed to police early this morning that he is the supervillain Papillon. Now, the Paris Police Prefecture have not yet issued a statement, but multiple sources are confirming the reports and…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent way too long figuring out her outfit and backtracked several concepts as I rewrote the chapter and its direction. I went purposely vague because I felt really awkward describing outfits when I've been very light on description this entire fic. (also i didn't know what she looked like. i'm not good at design. that's why i do words instead.)
> 
> also i'm sorry, i started the fic like "haha bantering between gabriel and marinette!" and then i never actually did it because they were trying to kill each other the entire time. ah well...
> 
> Last chapter is the epilogue. Watch me take forever to finish because writing is haaaaaaaaard D:


	5. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. Here goes. I want to thank everyone who read this far. I was floored by the reception of this fic and I'm still floored by every comment and bookmark and kudos. I haven't finished a multi-chapter fic in a long long time, and your engagement really inspired me to keep writing this. Thank you all so very much, from the bottom of my heart. 
> 
> A very special thanks to the Marinette Appreciation Server for encouraging me to publish this fic to begin with. I had the first chapter in my drafts until I shared it there and the positive remarks really got me to actually put it up. 
> 
> Thank you to disorganizedkitten and paladin-of-fandoms for proofreading this chapter!

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“Yeah, we’re here to see… We’re here to see Chloé.”

The woman’s welcoming smile faltered for a moment and she glanced between the two of them doubtfully. Nino gave a weak smile. She turned away to the monitor and frowned.

“Oh yes, I see it now. She’s expecting you.” The lady pulled out a drawer and handed them a key card. “Take the elevator to the top floor. This key will let you access the floor. Mlle Bourgeois’ room is numbered 01. Please return the card before leaving the building.”

Alya took the card. “Thanks, we’ll do that.”

“Have a nice day.”

The two teens turned away from the front desk and made their way to the elevator. Alya hit the button first.

“I really wasn’t expecting to come back here ever,” Nino said, as the lift dinged and the doors opened. They stepped in.

“Yeah, and not like this either,” Alya muttered. She pressed the button for the topmost floor and leaned against the bars as the doors slid shut.

“Do you think she told Adrien about what happened on the Tower?” Nino asked, staring through the glass walls as they ascended into the shaft. “I bet she’s probably really mad about missing out on the whole attack.”

“I’m not gonna say I’m sorry she did,” Alya said flatly. “Could you imagine her reaction to Ladybug?”

Nino grimaced. Alya’s shoulders slumped.

“I still haven’t processed much of it. Like, logically it does make sense, I used to joke about how Marinette and Ladybug were never in the same place together but, to find out it’s actually true… I feel stupid for not realising it sooner.”

“Hey,” Nino laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her slightly. “I didn’t notice either, and I’ve known Marinette longer than any of you. I didn’t even notice she was akumatised. You weren’t the only one.”

“Yeah I know I just,” Alya gave a frustrated sigh and pressed a hand against her face. “I’ve been a really bad friend to Marinette, and it’s not because she’s Ladybug. I’ve just been the worst to her!”

“You’re definitely not alone in that one, Alya.” Nino put both hands on her shoulders and turned so they were facing each other. “We all really dropped the ball on Marinette. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I’m supposed to be her best friend,” Alya dropped her hands. Her eyes were welling with tears. “I’m supposed to stand with her no matter what and I didn’t and I probably got her akumatised because I refused to believe her and I didn’t notice and Marinette was _right._ I trusted some random girl I barely know over my best friend, and even if she says she forgives us, it’s not gonna fix anything!”

The girl began to cry, and Nino bit his lip and pulled her in for a hug.

“You remember what I told you about Marinette and Chloé and me, before we came to Francoise Dupont?”

Alya sniffled into his shoulder and hugged him back.

“Yeah. About how Chloé bullied her even back then.”

“Yeah. And no one back then defended her, not even me. And Marinette still forgave us. She still forgave me and I don’t know how but she probably would forgive Chloé too if she made an effort to actually change.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, well… I think if we give it enough time, really show Marinette we’ll listen to her and trust her… It won’t be the exact same as before, but Marinette will still be our friend.”

Alya frowned and pulled back. “And if she doesn’t?”

“That’s…” Nino sighed. “That’s her choice, and we can’t change it. She might have forgiven us but nothing says she has to let us back in.”

They separated, and Alya wiped at her eyes.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said hollowly. “I guess we’ll just have to see.”

The elevator dinged, and they exited on Chloé’s floor. Alya took a moment to compose herself, then nodded. Nino knocked at the door marked 01.

Seconds later, a familiar butler welcomed them in and guided them to Chloé’s bedroom. Adrien was curled up on the bedroom, half-covered in blankets and hugging one of the brightly coloured pillows from the couches. Beside him, Chloé had her back against his, scrolling through her phone.

“Mlle Chloé, the guests are here.”

Chloé looked up from the screen and stared at them dismissively, then waved the butler off. Adrien shifted his legs and sat up. His face was puffy and red, and Nino immediately dove in for a hug.

“Hey,” he said softly, patting his friend’s back. Alya sat down next to them. “Sorry we took a while.”

“It’s fine,” Adrien mumbled. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Where’s Dupain-Cheng?” Chloé asked bluntly. Adrien flinched.

“She’s… not feeling well,” Alya said. “Her mom told us to check in again later.”

Chloé hummed and shuffled away from them, her back to the headboard. Attention returned to Adrien.

“He um…” Adrien cleared his throat, his voice a murmur. “My father… told me everything before the police showed up.”

“Oh, Adrien…”

“He said he did it for my mother, and that he was turning himself in too for her sake. He told me Ladybug had given him an offer to save her if he just revealed himself, so…” Adrien sighed and tugged at his hair. “My mother had the Peacock Miraculous, but it was cursed and she fell into a coma. My father hoped he could use the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous to bring her back.”

Nino’s eyebrows narrowed. He and Alya shared a puzzled look. Adrien saw it and gave them a small smile.

“Yeah, my mother isn’t missing. My father faked her disappearance and lied to me. To everyone.”

“Adrien, I’m so sorry,” Alya said, touching his knee.

“It’s… not fine, but you know,” Adrien gave a paltry shrug. “Better than finding out he murdered her or something, right?” he laughed weakly. “It’ll make breaking news soon, or maybe it already has. He told the authorities where she’s being kept and they promised to notify me when she’s in the hospital.”

Nino hugged him again.

“Did Ladybug… talk to you?” Alya asked.

Adrien shook his head and a tear fell free down his cheek onto Nino’s shoulder.

“Nathalie’s been kept in for questioning so, I got handed off to Monsieur Bourgeois.” Adrien let out a slow breath, and Nino patted soothingly at his back. “It’s been a rough twenty-four hours.”

“Honestly,” Alya agreed. Her eyes drifted over to the Chloé, who was staring at her phone but otherwise motionless. “How about you, Chloé? Sleep well last night?”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Rena,” Chloé muttered. Her knuckles tightened. “Like you care.”

“I… told her about what happened,” Adrien said quietly. Alya’s jaw dropped and Nino pulled away, though his hands remained on Adrien’s shoulders.

“Chill out,” Chloé snapped pre-emptively. “He didn’t tell me who Ladybug was. And I guessed Nino was Carapace based on how disgustingly in love you two are. What’s the point of a secret identity if you don’t even act like you have one?”

“That’s real rich coming from you,” Nino replied tersely.

“Guys, _please_ ,” Adrien interrupted.

They fell quiet. Alya sunk into the mattress and Chloé turned her head aside. Nino patted at Adrien’s shoulder.

“So now what?” the blonde asked. “You two are here now so, do we go to that old guy again or…?”

“Fu hasn’t spoken with me since last night. He’s probably the one who’ll undo the curse on my mother, I think. I guess he’s busy.”

“Are you allowed to leave?” Alya asked. “We could go and check up on him.”

Adrien shook his head. “I think it’s best I stay here until they tell me my mother is safe. Fu probably won’t undo the curse until he hears the news. I want to be there when she wakes up.”

“We’ll wait here, then,” Nino said softly. “With you.”

Adrien’s eyes grew watery.

“I’m really sorry,” his voice broke. “For everything. With Marinette, with Ladybug, with Lila. You were right, Nino. I haven’t been a good friend to anyone.”

“Oh, come on, dude,” Nino hugged him again. “You’re really too nice with Lila. As for Ladybug… well…”

“Girls don’t wanna be ignored when they say they’re not into you, bro,” Alya said. “Like I get why you might have thought it was a good idea but it seems like you really did hurt Ladybug doing that.”

“Hey!” Chloé snapped. “Are you comforting him or not? I will kick you out, you know.”

“Comforting,” Nino said, “doesn’t mean Adrien didn’t hurt people though. I mean Marinette forgave you already and she already knows you meant well. Instead of trying to justify what you did just, start fresh, respect her boundaries, all that stuff.”

“I’m serious, Lahiffe!”

“Guys, please stop it…”

“Look,” Nino met her eyes, his jaw set. “Marinette still saved your ass in school even though she totally didn’t have to and you never even apologised for anything you did. Yeah, Adrien’s sheltered about relationships and friendships and you grew up entitled and you both have shitty parents but that doesn’t make up for all the people you hurt because of it. All it does is give you a reason for _why_. Marinette got bullied and isolated long before Lila showed up, and we all took her for granted after we started this school year, but she still tries to be nice and make up for her mistakes when she does it. She’s not throwing herself a pity party when something doesn’t go her way.”

“So what, you want all of us to be a complete goodie-two-shoes like her?” Chloé demanded. “Being a total doormat is exactly why Rossi got as far as she did, besides all of you being terrible so-called friends to her.”

Alya scoffed. “Like you’ve been any sort of friend to Adrien, either. What were you doing while Lila was spewing her bullshit?”

“At least I didn’t ignore my ‘best friend’ and send her to the back of the class--”

“GUYS!”

The yell cut the argument short. Eyes turned to Adrien, his exclamation still hanging in the air. His fists were clenched, but after a second, his grip loosened and he curled into himself.

“Nino’s right,” he said quietly, his voice the barest of whispers compared to just a moment ago. “It’s not about why I did what I did or that I meant well. I broke Marinette and Ladybug’s trust and the only way to make up for it is to show her I’m gonna change and for good. Right?”

Nino nodded slowly.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Adrien bit his lip. “I’m sorry I yelled. I don’t like arguments.”

“No one reasonable does,” Alya said. Chloé opened her mouth to object, but shut it after a moment. “And it’s okay, we weren’t listening to you that time. I’m sorry.”

She looked up to Chloé. The blonde’s lips pressed together.

“I’m sorry, too,” she said finally.

Adrien smiled softly.

“Thank you,” he said, turning to each of them before stopping at Nino. “For not giving up on me.”

Nino smiled back and nudged him affectionately.

“That’s what friends are for.”

A moment of silence passed, before someone cleared their throat. The group looked up to see Chloé’s butler.

“Monsieur Adrien, there is an update from the police.”

 

“I refuse, and you cannot change it.”

“Duusu, as your superior Law, I am ordering you to lift your curse.”

“And I am refusing to acknowledge your superiority, Tikki,” the Peacock kwami spit back. “They were warned and they did not listen, they deserve their punishment for their impunity.”

“My Champion has made a vow to revive them, Duusu,” Tikki’s antennae were standing on end. “You will do as I say.”

“Your so-called Champion is fraudulent,” Duusu retorted. “She is not of the Lineage and as I’ve heard she’s turned into an abomination herself.”

“She is not an abomination!” Tikki snarled. “Marinette has become one of the Sanctuary’s members herself. She is last of the Protectorates.”

“She is an abomination of the very concept and you know that to be true,” Duusu hissed, his tail fanning out. “I could feel it from within my Miraculous and you have most certainly laid eyes on her since. She is a human corrupted by akumatic energy and you cannot trust her. I will not remove my curse for her and no one short of Null herself will command me!”

The door to Fu’s apartment creaked open midway through the kwami’s rant, and two sets of footsteps clambered in.

“I’m afraid Null couldn’t make it, but would you listen to me?” a soft voice asked.

The two kwami froze in the air and spun towards Fu and their new guest. Silver eyes gleamed and the visitor gave a chiming laugh. Behind her, Fu smiled.

Across the room, the gramophone glowed and bursts of colour zipped from it and into the air, materialising into many differently coloured kwami. They stared, awed and joyous at the new arrival. Tikki whispered her name:

“Aull.”

The goddess of Creation beamed.

“It’s been a while, my Laws, but it’s time for you to return home.”

 

“Is Marinette still sleeping?”

Sabine looked up at the closed trapdoor and shook her head in reply.

“I haven’t heard anything from her since this morning,” she said, wringing out the washcloth. “I think she had a fight with Alya.”

Tom frowned and leaned down to kiss his wife. He placed a hand on her back.

“She’ll be fine, you know Marinette. She always gets back up.”

“I know,” Sabine replied with a small smile. “You heard about the news downstairs, right?”

Tom nodded. “I had the TV on all day in the bakery. It was quite the conversation with the customers.”

“I can’t believe how that Adrien boy must be feeling, first to hear his father is a criminal, and then that his mother isn’t missing?” Sabine clicked her tongue and hung the washcloth over the tap. “It must be terrible for him.”

“Yes, but,” Tom guided her to the living room and they sat down on the sofa. “I’m glad Marinette won’t have to see those akumatisations again. If it kept on going, I think it would have been safer to have her transfer schools with how frequently Francoise Dupont is targeted.”

“She has friends there now,” Sabine objected softly. “I doubt she’d ever agree to it. But the danger is over now, and she’s still safe.”

“Still, you know how it is with things like that,” Tom squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll see how she does in the aftermath. Maybe get her some counselling just in case.”

Sabine leaned into her husband’s shoulder.

“We’ll discuss it next week,” she said. “But it’s up to her, for now.”

Tom nodded, and wrapped his arm around her.

On the television, the news was still breaking.

But it was almost, almost over.

 

Gabriel Agreste had never gone near a prison in his life, never mind sat in a jail cell himself. Any associates of his with the misfortune of being caught breaking the law could at best find themselves with a printed letter of condemnation, never mind a personal visit.

But here he was. His lawyer had wrangled the best criminal accommodations available in Paris, but that wasn’t saying very much. Given the severity of his alleged crimes, the investigation was being taken very seriously. He was a flight risk, even if he claimed otherwise.

The cell door opened, and a woman in police uniform stepped in. The door closed behind her. She was starting to become a familiar face, tasked with giving him updates about the operation.

The Agreste estate would be looking like a warzone by now, as they overturned all the secret passageways and items in their search, no matter if he gave them precise instructions. Gabriel’s grandfather would be rolling in his grave.

“Monsieur Agreste,” the officer said without preamble. “I’ve been informed your wife has woken up from her coma. Your son is already at the hospital.”

He allowed the slightest of smiles, and turned his head to give her a passive stare.

“Thank you. I’m glad to hear of that.”

The woman tensed, but she nodded and turned on her heel.

The door shut again, and Gabriel turned back to stare at the drab blue wall. His eyes slid to his lap.

A white butterfly phased through the bed and into view. He held out a hand, and it settled onto his finger.

“Please, tell her I appreciate she kept up her end of the deal,” he said softly.

The butterfly beat its wings cheerfully.

 

“I think Marinette might still be resting, but I can go and check. She shouldn’t be sleeping in this late in the afternoon anyway. Would you like something to eat?” Mme Cheng asked, leading Alya and Nino up the stairs to the living room and kitchen.

“Oh, uh… we wouldn’t want to disturb you if Marinette’s not up,” Alya said sheepishly as they crossed the threshold. Something smelled good in the air, and Marinette’s father looked up from where he sat on the couch.

“Nonsense, Alya, Marinette’s friends are always welcome here,” the woman said. “Besides, Tom is trying out a new variation of chocolatine, we’d love to have some taste testers.”

Alya gave a forced chuckle and glanced to Nino.

“Well,” Nino drew out the word dramatically, “guess one can’t hurt right?”

The adults laughed, just as the oven timer went off. M. Dupain stood to his feet and passed his wife for the kitchen.

“I’ll go see how Marinette is feeling,” she said, “You two can make yourselves at home.”

“Yep, will do,” Alya said, tossing a glance at the TV. The news was still rolling out. She wondered if the chocolatines were also celebratory.

“So how are you two doing?” M. Dupain asked conversationally, as he manoeuvred the tray out. The smell of chocolate and fresh pastry wafted through the air.

“Uh… Well,” Alya and Nino leaned over the counter as Marinette’s father removed his oven mitts. “The whole thing with the Papillon… We went to see Adrien about it.”

“I can’t imagine how he feels,” M. Dupain said sombrely. “How is he?”

“He’s… gonna be okay, I think,” Nino said. “His mother’s back and he’s with her at the hospital right now, so that’s a really good positive of this entire mess.”

“Poor kid,” said M. Dupain. “Are you going to see him again today? We could give them a gift basket. I could have Marinette send it along with you.”

“Yeah, we were going to go see him this evening, that’s why we’re asking about Marinette. I’m sure he’d really appreciate it, Monsieur Dupain.”

The baker beamed at them, “I’ll see what I can scrounge up before you leave.”

Footsteps descended the staircase. Mme Cheng smiled sadly at them.

“She’s up, but she’s not feeling well enough to see anyone,” she explained. “She says she’s sorry for making you come here twice.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Alya smiled reassuringly. “We’re just going to meet Adrien and his mother at the hospital. We’ll come back tomorrow and see if she’s up for it.”

“Before you leave, then, I’m going to go see what I can put together for a gift basket,” M. Dupain said, patting his wife’s shoulder as he passed her. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Of course.”

The door closed and footsteps descended to the bakery. Mme Cheng pulled out a stack of plates from the cupboard and handed two small ones to the teens before prying at the rows of chocolatines on the tray.

“Careful, they’re very hot. You should let them sit for a bit longer.”

“Thank you, Mme Cheng,” they chorused.

“No need,” she smiled brightly. “I should be thanking you, if anything.”

Alya and Nino shared a confused look. Mme Cheng gave a soft sigh.

“Thank you for being with Marinette,” she said quietly. “I know it’s… ‘uncool’ of me to say that, but I don’t think you’re the kind of people who would tease her about it, yes?”

A chill ran through them, but they nodded, attentive. Mme Cheng folded her arms over the counter, something sombre in her eyes.

“Marinette… doesn’t ask for help, and part of that is mine and Tom's fault as parents. We’ve always been busy with the bakery and I know Marinette doesn’t blame us, but when she was in school, before she met you two, she wasn’t happy. She didn’t make friends and she never invited people over the way she does now with your entire class. She told us she was fine with the way things were, but I still…”

Mme Cheng’s voice hitched, and Alya’s eyes began to water.

“I was just saying,” Mme Cheng said, resuming clearing the baking tray and stacking the chocolatines onto a large plate, “I’m very happy to see her happy. Even though you’ve all seen such horrible things with the akumatisations, I’ve never seen Marinette so happy to be around people her age. If it weren’t for how happy her classmates made her, we would have transferred her out to a safer school months ago.”

Alya swallowed and blinked her eyes quickly. Behind the counter, Nino grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“We have Marinette to thank too,” Nino said quietly. “She’s really sweet, Mme Cheng, she’s the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

Alya nodded in agreement.

Mme Cheng looked up and smiled at them.

“Thank you, Alya, Nino,” she said. “You’re very kind people. I’m proud Marinette is friends with such lovely kids.”

A floor above, Marinette listened in to the thoughts and emotions below, and shed a single tear.

 

Tikki had left at some point during the day, and hadn’t returned. According to the butterflies, she’d told them she’d be at Fu’s, working on breaking Mme Agreste’s curse. She must have decided to stay there, for by the time the city fell into a sleeping murmur, she still hadn’t returned.

Marinette cracked her knuckles and tapped the toe of her boots softly on the floor of the rooftop. The summer breeze didn’t phase her, and as she swung her legs over the railing, a pressure mounted in her chest she hadn’t felt the last time she went out at night.

Her mind still felt hazy, like she was still waking up from a dream, except that dream had lasted days and instead of sleep it was a deep abyss of despair. Had she really done all of those things? Fought off an assassin, defeated the Papillon, tricked her friends?

Despite the waves and waves of shame and embarrassment that had followed, the butterflies reassured her she had done what she could at the time. It might not have been the best choice, but it was a right choice for her.

And those choices had led her to become someone new, someone different from the Marinette she used to be, yet still just Marinette.

She leapt off the rooftop and landed on the quiet street. Her body jolted at the impact, but there was no pain. She stood. It felt like being Ladybug. Not invincible, not invulnerable, but still so much more powerful than any ordinary human girl.

You are like us, the butterfly danced at her side. You are like what used to be.

“You’re all awfully cryptic about that,” she said quietly.

She ran at the wall and scaled to the top of the edifice, then sprinted across the connecting roofs. The butterfly followed her at an unnatural ease.

He can explain it all to you, they said, he is the only one who knows the truth.

“Is this about the Order of the Guardians?” she asked, rolling over a ventilation pipe.

Yes, yes, what used to be.

“Then I hope he doesn’t mind a late-night visit.”

The butterfly giggled.

He was never one for sleeping on time.

Marinette smiled softly, and halted at the edge of a roof.

“I guess I’ll have to ask him how you know that.”

 

True to the butterfly’s word, when she arrived at the apartment building, Fu was still awake. He wasn’t at all surprised to see her at his door, and beckoned her with a warm smile.

“Did you rest well?” he asked, passing her a cup of tea as she settled onto the floor mat.

“I did, thank you,” she said. “Where’s Tikki?”

Fu turned to where the gramophone sat. On top, two tiny makeshift cots held a slumbering Wayzz and Tikki.

“Emilie Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur have been freed from the effects of the curse,” he said. “But I think you would have already known.”

“Yes,” she said softly, turning to the butterfly hovering around the room. It split into multiples. “They told me Gabriel thanked me.”

Fu hummed. Marinette faced him. He took a slow breath, and began to explain.

“The Order of Guardians was founded by the goddess of Creation, Aull. She chose seven of the more pure hearted, selfless, and kind humans and gifted them with the Miraculous. They lived in a pocket dimension connected to this world known as the Sanctuary. The Guardians were tasked with protecting humanity from evil, but they all came from different parts of the world. So Aull broke the barriers of language, and gave them the ability to communicate through true emotion and thought. There were also those known as Protectorates, ordinary humans who did not use a Miraculous’ powers, but borrowed from them on their allegiance and loyalty to the Order’s cause.”

“And that is… why I’m like this?” she asked quietly.

Fu shook his head.

“The induction of a Protectorate is very specific. The first Protectorates were usually family or very close friends of the First Wielders. Only those descended from the oldest children of the original Guardians can pass on a Protectorate’s magic ability. I am the last of the Lineage, but I specifically lack the ability to convert ordinary humans. The Sanctuary and its powers are to end with me.”

“Then… what happened to me?” Marinette asked, raising her head. “Why am I like this if it’s not supposed to happen?”

The old man sighed.

“Akumatisation is a dangerous and unknown magic, Marinette. Aull has some theories of her own as to its source, but I don’t know for certain why this happened to you.”

Marinette frowned.

“Gabriel Agreste is a descendant of the Butterfly wielder, isn’t he?”

Fu blinked at her. She gave a quick smile.

“It was the only thing that could explain why the secret rooms in the Agreste mansion had butterfly carvings and windows. They looked really old, too.”

He pressed his mouth closed and nodded.

“Yes, Gabriel Agreste descended from the last Butterfly wielder’s younger brother. He’d left the Sanctuary before it fell, living amongst humans. However, the Butterfly Miraculous itself had been out of that family’s hands since the Order of the Guardians fell. Some may know of the Miraculous’ legacy, but most in the Sanctuary were wiped out over a hundred and seventy years ago, Marinette. It was folklore at best, before the Papillon appeared.”

Marinette dipped her head in acknowledgement.

“Did you choose Adrien because of his ancestry, then?” she asked quietly.

Fu met her eyes. She didn’t read him, but his expressions betrayed him.

“I did not,” he said honestly. “But I may have turned a blind eye to Chat Noir’s actions because of my bias.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth,” she said quietly. “Were you close to the late Butterfly?”

Fu smiled and gave a soft laugh.

“We were childhood friends, the only upcoming successors to Miraculous at the time. His name was Arion.”

“Arion…” Marinette echoed.

The butterflies in the air split again. Marinette looked up. They split, again and again, settling down onto surfaces of the room. She couldn’t count them.

“Arion did not cause the fall of the Sanctuary,” Fu said, his eyes distant, “but he ensured its destruction.”

The butterflies jittered. Marinette frowned, and regarded the man.

“Why did the Sanctuary and the Order fall?” she prompted.

Fu breathed in deeply.

“Aull created the Order and the Miraculous so that humanity would be safe from evil. The Guardians were to neutralise any threats they found. But the Order had a selfless goal and those who are too selfless do not live long, Marinette. The Order became corrupt, and with it the Sanctuary itself. Those who did not possess the power of magic were no longer seen as people to protect, but to be pitied and scorned for their innate evil. As an organisation founded on the best of humanity, the Order’s descendants came to view themselves as infallibly good. Their oaths to protect became secondary, and as human civilisation expanded, a fragment of the Order decided to reveal themselves to humanity, while the rest fought to keep themselves secret.”

“But those reveals failed,” Marinette murmured. “Magic isn’t normal here.”

Fu nodded solemnly.

“They failed, because Arion destroyed them. His father had chosen the side of Revelation, to use the Butterfly’s powers to spread magic to everyone deemed worthy. He used Arion to send out liaisons, to give magic to humanity and show their power. But Arion didn’t want to fight in this war. His magic turned akumatic and corrupted him, and using the Butterfly Miraculous with his akumatisation, he killed the Guardians, massacred the Sanctuary, and ended the Order for good.”

The butterflies stilled. Marinette reached out a hand, and touched Fu’s trembling shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It must have really hurt, to lose all your people, your home, your best friend…”

Slowly, Fu shook his head. There were tears in his eyes.

“I lived because Arion refused to kill me,” he explained. “He knew what he had done, he despised the Order and the Sanctuary itself, but he didn’t want to kill me.”

“He must have really loved you,” Marinette whispered, her words distant to her own ears.

He did.

She turned to the butterflies.

How he did.

“Who are you?” she asked them, blinking a few times. She stood to her feet and approached them. “You’re not connected to the Butterfly Miraculous. You didn’t disappear when it was retrieved.”

You already know.

We are what used to be.

We are the remnants of the past.

“In certain cultures, butterflies are a symbol of death and rebirth,” Fu said quietly. He let out a slow breath. “Akumatisation can do inexplicable things. An entire civilisation fell to the despair of one child. Even in a civilisation as corrupted as the Sanctuary was, there are still those who do not merit punishment.”

“I… see.” Marinette said quietly. She closed her eyes.

Dozens of thoughts, disjointed but wholly unique, fluttered around her. Snippets of conversation, memory, emotion flew through her. Echoes of what was once was, of who used to be.

Behind her, Fu let down his guard, and she heard him sob in the familiarity of a crowd of unspoken voices.

“They’re not real,” he whispered through tears. “They’re only memories, Marinette.”

“Yeah,” she said, turning to face the crying elderly man. She kneeled to his level. “But aren’t we all made of what we remember? If I didn’t remember being akumatised, if I could forget what my friends had done to me, I wouldn’t be the way I am now.”

The thoughts changed.

“They’re real, Master Fu,” she said, as the voices grew clearer, “They’re not the people they used to be, not the same people anymore, but they’re still very real.”

The butterflies took flight, and flocked around them, a hundred voices of what used to be, and what now was.

“When I first met you, you told me it was your fault the Sanctuary fell,” Marinette recounted softly, resting her hands on Fu’s shoulders. “But it’s not. It’s not your fault you were the only one who survived, it’s not your fault you couldn’t save anyone else, and it’s not your fault Arion became akumatised.”

Fu shook his head, his eyes fallen.

“I was a foolish child, Marinette, and I am still a foolish old man.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “If you’re foolish, then I’m a total brick, right? I guess we should both just linger on the mistakes of our pasts and never move forward and try to fix them. And you already have made amends, Master Fu. You reunited the Miraculous, you kept Paris safe, you saved my life and the lives of who knows how many other people. I don’t agree that you’re deserving of your guilt, and I don’t think Arion would agree either if he were here.”

Marinette lifted the old man’s head. Blue eyes stared into ancient brown. Fu breathed out slowly.

“Thank you, Marinette,” he said at last, touching her arms rested upon his shoulders. “You are truly kind.”

“I just want to help people,” she answered softly. “And I’m realising I can’t do that well if I don’t take care of myself first. I’d say the same goes for you, but you don’t need to help people anymore, Fu. You should rest. You don’t need to be the last Guardian anymore.”

Fu smiled, just a bit.

“Perhaps,” he gave a sigh. “Perhaps you are right.”

The butterflies danced around them, and gave jubilant cries.

Marinette smiled in return.

“Thank you, Master Fu.”

 

Waking up in the morning to a dozen or so butterflies pulling the bedsheets off her was by far the worst way to wake up.

“Come on, Marinette!” Tikki chimed, all too cheerfully. “It’s almost eleven and you promised to be at the hospital by noon.”

“You’re all cruel,” she cried melodramatically, looking up at the shameless magical creatures. The blanket dropped from their feet and they phased through the roof in retreat. “You’re ganging up on me!”

Tikki hovered in the air, rolling in peals of laughter, and Marinette couldn’t help but smile herself.

“I feel better already, knowing they’re better at waking you up than me,” she said.

Marinette chuckled and sat up.

“Yeah, they’re lucky you’ve trained me not to panic when something is on my face. Magic or not, I would have squashed them.”

“You look much better today, Marinette,” Tikki said, floating up to her face.

“I feel better, too,” she stretched her arms. “All right you guys, you can come back in, you know I’m not actually mad at you.”

The butterflies phased back into the room and flew down the steps. Marinette smiled at the sight. Already, they were familiar to her.

“Wait, no, you don’t have to--”

She scrambled down the steps as the butterflies multiplied to pull open her wardrobe.

“Seriously, I can dress myself, you don’t have to do this for me,” she said, waving her hands as the creatures held up an assortment of clothes. “I know you know what I want to wear anyway, but I can do it myself.”

But we want to help.

“Yes, and you really are super helpful,” Marinette said fondly. “But you’re my friends, not my servants or anything like that.”

Is she sure?

“Yes,” Marinette repeated, a laugh in her voice. “Yes, I am. You’re all really sweet, but don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself, usually.”

Doubtful.

“Hey!” she crossed her arms.

Kidding, they said, swarming her in soft light. We trust you.

Marinette’s eyes shimmered in the magical glow.

“Thanks,” she said. “I trust you too.”

 

“I’ve never seen you wear a skirt before,” was not how Alya intended to greet her maybe-still-best-friend, but it was too late to change that. “Or wear your hair down with,” Alya gestured at the ribbon hanging off the left side of Marinette’s head, “that. It looks cute on you.”

“Thanks,” Marinette replied smoothly, fidgeting with the ends of her skirt. “I stopped after the akuma attacks started. It’s easier to jump over things when you don’t have to worry about catching on something or flashing someone, yeah?”

Alya gave a chuckle in response, but smiled.

“You look nice, though, really. I’m glad you’re feeling better. You got Chloé’s text, right?”

Marinette’s shoulders relaxed. She gave a smile.

“I did. Leave it to Chloé to plan a massive party the day of,” she shook her head, but she was smiling.

“Yeah, but it’s Chloé, so half the school’ll be there anyway,” Alya said. “I uh… don’t think she invited Lila, so… yeah.”

Marinette took Alya’s hand. The other gave a worried smile in return.

“I meant what I said the day before, by the way,” Marinette murmured, squeezing the girl’s hand. “I know… I’ve kept a lot of secrets, and I don’t regret keeping them.”

Alya bit her lip, but nodded.

“I understand. You did what you had to and… I’ve been a bad friend and I didn’t even have a magical reason for it. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Marinette replied. “I appreciate it, and I… I still want to be your friend, Alya. I just need some time to sort things out.”

Alya nodded again, even as a burning sensation tickled her nose.

“Thanks, Marinette,” she squeezed the other girl’s hand back. “Thank you for telling me.”

Marinette smiled softly, differently, yet all the same.

“Come on,” she said, “let’s head inside.”

Their hands parted, and Marinette turned towards the hospital entrance.

Something heavy was still weighing in Alya’s heart, but it had gotten just the slightest bit light.

No, things wouldn’t be exactly the same, not immediately, maybe never, but…

It was a start.

 

“She doesn’t like me,” Alya said the moment Adrien closed the door to Emilie Agreste’s hospital room. “Did I say something?”

Marinette beat Adrien to the punch.

“No, she’s just wary of us,” she said simply with a shake of her head. The tails of ribbon hanging off her face fluttered with the motion. “We’re Adrien’s first friends, and she doesn’t know us yet, so she’s cautious about it.”

“Marinette’s… right,” Adrien smiled reassuringly. “My mother might seem really sweet on camera, but she and my father are kind of alike in that sense. She’ll come around to you guys, I promise.”

Nino sighed. “Someday your parents will like me.”

“I think she liked you most, to be honest,” Marinette said.

“Really?” The boy perked up.

“Yep. Let’s call it a hunch of mine.”

“Don’t get my hopes up,” Nino nudged her. Marinette smiled. It was so familiar.

“Hey, uh,” Adrien began. “You guys can go ahead to Chloé’s for the party. I want to talk to Marinette for a second.”

The comfortable atmosphere sombred, and Alya gave Marinette a quick hug. Nino and Marinette shared a look, but Marinette smiled and nodded.

“We’ll catch up to you guys at the hotel,” she said.

Alya and Nino gave them both one last look, before heading down the hospital hallway towards the elevators, leaving the two of them alone.

Adrien leaned onto the wall, while Marinette stood in the middle of the corridor. Such was the luxury of being a high-profile case. They’d cleared out the entire part of this floor to keep out the press. Amongst the bland white tones, Marinette stood out in a vibrant pink shirt.

“Thank you for coming today,” he said.

She turned to him and smiled again. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I needed to check on her,” she said. “And to apologise to you, for not telling you about your father myself.”

“Thank you,” he said slowly. “I… he told me himself anyway, so it’s not like I got the news as he was being dragged out in handcuffs or something.”

His chuckle was met with silence. He swallowed. Marinette turned away, her sneakers squeaking against the floor.

“Things happened really quickly,” she murmured. “I should have warned you beforehand. Your father had the best of intentions, but it’s easy to do bad things when you think you’re justified in it.”

“I know,” Adrien said, “and I don’t blame you for not showing him any mercy. Even if he is my father, he did really bad things and he will be punished for it. You did the right thing, Marinette.”

“I know, too,” Marinette replied. She turned back to him, fidgeting with her fingers. She met his gaze, her lip caught between her teeth in nervousness. “But it’s over now. Paris is safe. The Miraculous are safe, and… it’ll be okay.”

Adrien’s eyes dropped to the floor. He toed the ground in thought.

“Did you love Adrien?” he asked.

In his peripheral, he saw Marinette smile again.

“Yeah. I did. I loved the Adrien everyone else expected. He was kind, and smart, and nothing more than that,” she said. He didn’t react. “How about you? Did you love Ladybug too?”

“I do love her,” he murmured. “I still love her. She’s nice, and clever, and so much more than that. She’s witty and determined and--”

Marinette approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He met her eyes.

“And it’s okay,” he said, “that she doesn’t love me back.”

Marinette’s gaze softened, just slightly.

“Just promise me, that with the next person you love, you won’t love them the way you loved Ladybug,” she said. “I know you didn’t know any better, Adrien, and everything Chat Noir did makes sense when he’s you, but now you do know better, and I would really like, that whoever you love next, if it’s Kagami or who else, you’ll love them the way I would have wanted Adrien to.”

He touched her hand set on his shoulder.

“I promise,” he said quietly.

She smiled, and it was so familiar.

“All right, then,” she said.

And they pulled away.

“You know,” she said, her posture relaxing. Her eyes were gentle. “Your father really does love you. He only turned himself in for your sake, in all honesty. Not that,” she said, sensing his objection, “not that that justifies anything he did to you. He was still a total asshole before he got a Miraculous, but it’s… It’s okay you feel conflicted about it. Sometimes we focus on anger because if we don’t, all we’re left is that sadness.”

Adrien closed his eyes and shook his head.

“It’s like you’re reading my mind,” he said quietly.

“I’m really not.”

“I believe you.”

He opened his eyes and met with blue. Marinette took a few steps down the hall, and prompted him to follow. He pushed himself off the wall and met her pace for pace.

“My mother doesn’t believe he’s guilty,” he said, as they approached the elevator. “She thinks he took the fall to wake her up.”

“It makes sense from her perspective,” she replied. “Gabriel turns himself in and she wakes up just hours later.”

“It’s… weird hearing you refer to him by his first name,” Adrien said, as she hit the button to go to the ground floor. “But I guess…”

Marinette shot him a brief look and shrugged.

“It’s complicated. My time akumatised made me very… unfiltered. By the end of it, he probably knows my feelings better than my own parents.”

“That’s really messed up. I’m sorry he did that.”

“I’m not,” she said bluntly. Adrien stared.

The doors opened and they entered.

“It sucked and everything still aches, but if I had a choice in getting akumatised, I don’t think I’d refuse,” she said, punching in the floor number. The doors slid closed and the ground sunk.

“I didn’t handle it perfectly, I could have done it better, but as opposed to what? Fighting alongside you, getting his Miraculous, and having you realise in the moment? Continuing these strings of akumatisations until one day we get lucky and he comes out in the open?”

The bravest girl he’d ever known shook her head.

“I’m glad it ended like this,” she said. “I’m glad it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

Adrien gave himself a moment to think, before finally replying.

“I’m glad it did, too, Marinette, but… I still wouldn’t wish those memories on anyone.”

Marinette turned and gave him a smile.

“We’re all made of our memories, Adrien,” she said. “For better or for worse. But… thank you, for caring about me.”

“We all care for you, my Lady,” he said.

“I know,” she murmured. “And it means the world to me.”

The doors opened.

 

By the time Adrien and Marinette walked through the lobby of the hotel, the party was already started. Some people had arrived early, but even on a very short notice, Nino could tell the turnout was going to be most of their school. Chloe had promoted it as a spur-of-the-moment party to celebrate the end of the city’s akumatisations (and the return of safety at Francoise Dupont in specific), and it seemed the student body was happy to set aside their opinion of Chloe for it.

Some eyes turned to Adrien, and the chatter fell in volume slightly. Nino’s hand hovered over the tracklist, ready to cause a distraction, but Chloe burst through the crowd and took their friend by the shoulder. Eyes averted, and the conversation resumed. Marinette and Chloe shared a look, and Marinette shrugged at her, then left the two blonds behind for one of the refreshments tables.

Nino set the music to auto and stepped down from the turntables.

“How did it go with Adrien?” he asked, once he got within earshot.

The girl glanced at him for a second, then grabbed a two-litre bottle of coke and started pouring it into a plastic cup. The very rushed catering showed, just a bit.

“It went well, I think,” she said, putting the bottle down and recapping it. She picked up her cup and leaned her back against the table. “Ladybug won’t love him back, and he’s okay with that.”

“And in the future?” he prompted, stopping at her side and facing the crowd.

Marinette tossed him a look. Nino held up his hands.

“I’m not wingmanning, I promise, and you don’t have to tell me, I’m just curious.”

The girl snorted.

“I don’t think I need a relationship right now,” she said, staring out at the crowds of her peers. “I think I need to figure out my current friendships, and my own relationship with myself.”

“Introspection’s not a bad thing,” Nino murmured. “You need some rest, though, after all of this.”

“Yeah, I… well,” she hesitated. “I was gonna tell Alya and Adrien about this later tonight, too. Jagged Stone rang me up about the news on the Papillon, and he offered to take me on tour with him over the summer in the States.”

“Seriously?” Nino’s eyes went wide. “Dude, that’s awesome!”

Marinette laughed slightly and the bow in her hair fluttered.

“I have to get my parents to sign off on it first, but I think they’ll let me go. It’ll be really nice to see how the whole thing runs and y’know, see the U.S.”

“I think the universe is already repaying you for everything you’ve done to keep it together,” Nino quipped.

Marinette’s smile grew soft.

“Yeah. It’s nice to be eager for the future. Never really thought I’d get this far.”

The wistful tone in her words sent his hair standing on end, but Nino slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a one-armed hug.

“No matter what comes, I promise you won’t be alone this time. For real,” he whispered.

Marinette stared at him. She seemed genuinely touched. A small, earnest smile formed on her lips.

“You’re sweet, Nino,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

“Nah,” he pulled away, his hand on her shoulder, and gestured to the crowd, “everyone one of us here owes you a thank you, Marinette. We owe you everything.”

“Yeah, I don’t want you to,” she scoffed with a smile. “Really, I like keeping a low profile as Marinette. If people have to talk about me, I’d rather it be for my creative work.”

“Not hard, considering you,” Nino grinned.

They laughed, and Nino wondered how long it’d been since he heard Marinette honestly laugh. His friend raised her cup to toast.

“To not being alone anymore?” she prompted.

Nino turned and poured himself some root beer.

“To not being alone,” he intoned.

The plastic cups gave dull clinks, and they drank.

Marinette spat hers out back into the cup and coughed, turning for a napkin.

“That is not coke,” she grimaced. “Did someone spike it already?”

Nino set his drink back down before he snorted it back up laughing. Marinette nudged him with her shoulder indignantly, but the smile on her face was completely unprompted.

Yeah, things would be okay.

 

“What’s your home like, Tikki?” Marinette asked, dangling her legs over the edge of the tower.

The kwami hovered beside her, the lights of Paris reflected in inhuman eyes.

“We call it the Aether,” she said simply. “The goddess Null resides within it. It is where all things intangible that don’t exist on this plane of existence live, all things that once were, and things that will be.”

“Will you be happy there?” Marinette asked.

Tikki smiled softly.

“Yes, I think I will be.”

Marinette hummed, and kicked her legs back and forth, fearless of losing her balance on such a high beam.

“Gabriel turning himself in is going to expose a lot of people to knowledge of the Miraculous,” she said. “But I’m glad they’re all safe. Your powers shouldn’t be misused anymore.”

“Yes, you and Fu are the last direct ties to magic, Marinette.” The kwami floated before her with soft, alien eyes. “I’ve guided many Ladybugs through millennia of conflict and advancement, but I’m so happy you’re the final one, Marinette. I’m happy there are humans like you. The Order may have resulted in failure, but I think you prove that there will always be good people to counter the bad, and that humanity can improve if given enough time.”

“I know,” Marinette cupped her into her hands. Lights reflected in Tikki’s eyes. “You’ve been really sweet to me, Tikki. You were the first person to believe in me. I’ll miss you very much, but I won’t be alone. Not anymore.”

“You need to trust beings who aren’t magical, too,”  Tikki reminded, floating out of Marinette’s palm and pressing against her wielder’s cheek. “I know your friends hurt you, and I know it won’t be easy feeling safe around all of them, but will you promise me you’ll try?”

Marinette held her close and smiled, tears in her eyes.

“I promise, I’ll try my very best.”

Tikki leaned into her, the tiniest of tears in her own eyes.

“Then I’ll rest well, knowing you’re okay, Marinette.”

Above their heads, hundreds of white lights fluttered in the air, like stars against the night sky.

Everything had changed, but she was still just Marinette.

And her story had only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have entertained the idea of a sequel fic, but I'll have to see what I come up with as what I have so far is a very big shift from "magical sad supervillain". Ultimately, I don't want to push a sequel for a story that's otherwise over: Marinette's on a slow and arduous path to recovery, the classmates are going to do some thinking, and Paris won't see the Miraculous ever again, but magic is still there...
> 
> The lore I used in this fic (the Butterfly falling into the Ladybug's domain, Aull and Null, the Sanctuary, everything with Arion and Fu) is all explored in another ML fic "ambivolence", but differently. It's an S2-divergent fanfic that focuses on Marinette dealing with the fallout of Lila being exposed after Volpina. So, if that sounds cool to you, please do check it out!
> 
> Finally, I'd like to reiterate my gratitude to you. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3

**Author's Note:**

> [i'm on tumblr](http://emblian.tumblr.com) but i just yell about stuff that aren't ml and make some gifs


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